


You're Writing Verses About Me

by Rearviewdreamer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Harry just wants to fall in love, Louis makes dumb decisions, Louis' in quite the perdicament, M/M, One Shot, Roommates, Uni AU, What else is new?, harry is a romantic, these tags tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 05:31:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7254331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rearviewdreamer/pseuds/Rearviewdreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everybody knows that Louis has never been one for serious boyfriends. His reputation around campus precedes him, which is why he doesn't think twice before proudly telling his mother about his new and completely fabricated relationship with his oddly quiet and completely gorgeous new roommate Harry to shut her up about his lack of commitment. It's the perfect lie; a flawless plan, or at least it was until Louis' ordered to bring his fabulous new boyfriend home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Writing Verses About Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FallingLikeThis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingLikeThis/gifts).



> A fic in which I blended two prompts into one request:
> 
> 1\. 'Louis sells the story of his fake relationship a little too well and his mother demands that Louis bring him home over Christmas break, so now Louis has to get someone to go along with his lies and go home with him, but not just anyone, because the man he's been describing to his family bears a striking resemblance to his dreaded uni roommate, Harry, who hates him.'
> 
> 2\. 'Harry finds an anonymous note in a random book in a bookshop that's meant for him. Harry is intrigued enough to turn the page, and that's just the start of a wonderful adventure that may just lead Harry to find where his heart really lies.'
> 
>  
> 
> Fingers crossed that I did them both justice :)
> 
>  
> 
> Translated into Russian:  
> https://ficbook.net/readfic/4921748
> 
>  
> 
> Translated into Italian:  
> http://www.efpfanfic.net/viewstory.php?sid=3589715

"Yeah, mum. I know," Louis sighs as he flops down in the chair in front of his desk. He's got two assignments due on Friday and he hasn't started on either of them. Not that his mother cares, of course. All she cares about is why her eldest child seems to always be out with different guys, and yet somehow none of them are good or important enough for Louis to take seriously. It's a conversation that Louis is all too familiar with. Probably because his mother has been on his case about it since he was sixteen years old and refused to even tell her the name of the boy he'd been messing around with for a whole month.

 

He's older now. Nineteen and from the way she’s lecturing him about maturity, not much has changed. Well, not much except Louis' response to her meddling which is mostly just a lot of dramatic sighing and eye rolling. Lately, there's _always_ eye rolling involved.

 

" _Mum._ I don't have to marry every guy I bump into on the way to class."

 

"Not with an attitude like that, you can't," she mutters.

 

And with that, Louis' dramatic eye rolling commences.

 

"You know, most mums call their kids at uni to chat about things like home, the weather, or, oh, I don't know, their _classes_ ," he says drily.

 

His mother scoffs into the receiver. Louis can just see her now, stubbornly folding her arms across her chest.

 

"Well excuse me for wanting grandchildren one day."

 

"You have six other children, mum. _Six_. Why are you always picking on me?"

 

"Because you're the eldest, that's why. And if I'm getting grandkids out of anyone within the next decade it's probably going to be you,” she snaps. She takes a deep breath. When she releases it, her voice is much sweeter. “Now, love, I know it's much too soon for kids and that kind of thing right now obviously. You need to focus on school, but I at least need you in the mindset and zone to at least _think_ about wanting to have a family by the time you've graduated and you’re off being a world famous filmmaker and all that."

 

Louis' gaze falls to the stack of notes and the new course books that he's barely even cracked since the new semester began a few weeks ago. He’s been doing alright with school so far, but he’s the type who needs to stay on top of things in order to do well and this phone call isn't exactly helping. "Yeah, _if_ I graduate," Louis says beneath his breath.

 

"What was that, Lou?" his mother asks. Louis sighs, wondering how she even heard him. Aren't people's ears supposed to get _worse_ as they age?

 

"I _said_..." Louis doesn't know what to tell her in order to get her off his back. She wants him to start thinking about his future. About getting serious with someone. Serious enough to want to settle down with them and all the shit that goes along with it, and all within the next few years. Right now, all Louis wants is to get his two film studies assignments done and make it to Friday.

 

"Louis, I'm not bringing this up again just to nag. I want you to be happy, love. I just want you to have someone good in your life and for longer than a handful of days."

 

Louis has heard this speech before too. It's the one where she tells him how worried she is that he'll never settle down and he'll end up resenting himself for it later. This discussion is usually worse than the one where she’s low-key calling him a slut for never committing.

 

"You don't have to be worried about me, mum. I've got someone good in my life already. H-He's really great. You'd like him," he lies.

 

He doesn't know why he says it. It's the biggest untruth he's ever told and coincidentally the best decision he's ever made because his mother nearly shrieks through the phone at him once his words register.

 

" _What!?_ Who? Louis, since _when_?"

 

Louis laughs nervously into the receiver at how excited she is already without hearing a single detail about this imaginary person. "Alright, alright, mum," he chuckles, "Don't have a cow or whatever," he says just as his new roommate walks through the door.

 

He slumps in with his backpack for class slung over his right shoulder and a half-empty bottle of water in his right hand. He doesn't really acknowledge Louis or the way he's slumped back in his chair. He never really does these days. Actually, he hasn't said much to Louis since the weekend they both moved in. Louis oftentimes wonders why that is.

 

His mother's shrill voice in his ear quickly grabs his attention back.

 

"Well, don't keep me waiting! Who is it? What's his name? Is he cute? Oh, I bet he's so handsome!" she gushes.

 

"Er- yeah...he's very handsome," Louis mumbles lowly.

 

"Ha! I knew it! And his name?"

 

Louis panics for a moment. He can't think straight with his mother interrogating him and his roommate humming to whatever song he's listening to through his earbuds. He needs a name. A _good_ name. The type of name that sounds nice when paired with his own. A name that he can bloody _remember_.

 

It comes to him in a moment of sheer inspiration as he watches his clumsy roommate stumble out of the beat-up shoes he wore to class, his long limbs flailing as he catches his balance.

 

"Harry," Louis says low enough to not be heard over the sound of his roommate's music. “His name is Harry.”

 

" _Harry_ ,” she repeats, like she’s testing the name out in her mouth. “Oh, that's so nice, Lou! How old is he? What's he like? Ooh, do you have any pictures?" Louis can practically see the stars in her eyes.

 

"Mum, calm down," Louis says, actually grinning a bit over how excited she is. He should’ve thought of lying to her years ago. "He's a year younger than me and he's..." Louis takes a moment to consider the boy standing across the room, finding that he doesn't know a whole lot about him. It’s probably because the two of them hardly talk, but what Louis knows so far is nice enough.

 

"He's uh…tall?” Louis tries until his mother tells him to do better than that. “Okay, he likes music? And he’s smart. Takes school really seriously.” The boy is always reading. Not even for classes sometimes. Some nights he reads just because he wants to.

 

"And the pictures so I can brag to everyone? I'll need a photo of this wonderful person at some point, you know."

 

Harry chooses that exact moment to take out his earbuds and change into a fresh t-shirt. He glances at Louis and catches him staring, but doesn't say anything. Louis hurries to pretend like he's not watching him, but he knows he’s been caught. His mother keeps calling his name in his ear, desperate for him to answer her, but Louis doesn't dare speak a word. Not until Harry firmly replaces his earbuds, grabs his keys, and heads out the door for work leaving Louis alone in the room again.

 

“LOUIS!”

 

“Er- It’s all still very new, mum. Our uh, relationship is, I mean. We’ve only been together since the start of the semester, so we haven’t really had the chance to take any pictures yet.”

 

“Oh, yes. Of course, of course. I understand,” she assures him in a much calmer voice. “Oh, Louis. I’m so happy for you. I can’t believe you’re only _just_ _now_ telling me about your boyfriend of over two weeks,” she grumbles, “But I’ll forgive you this once,” she sweetly amends.

 

“Thanks,” Louis mutters as she talks right over him, asking ten thousand other questions about Harry. Louis is all too happy to cut off her attack. “Ok, Mum! I’d love to sit here and tell you all about his eyes and everything else you’re just dying to know, but I actually need to get going. I have some work to get done. You know, uni and all? _Uni?_ That progressive place you go to get an education and not a man.”

 

“Oh, shut up. You know I’m very proud of you. I’m always proud of you and all of your accomplishments, love.” Something tells Louis she’d be even prouder if he managed to put a ring on someone’s finger by the time he gets his degree. “Okay, love. You go focus on school and I’ll call to drag details out of you later.”

 

Louis rolls his eyes. He wonders if his brain just does it for him on autopilot these days rather than him having to actually think about it.

 

“Love you, Lou. We’ll talk soon!” she promises.

 

“Can’t wait, love you, bye.” Louis drops his head onto his desk feeling spent and more exhausted than he should probably be at this time of the day, and all due to the web of poorly-constructed lies he told his mother.

 

 _Him_. Actual Louis Tomlinson with a real boyfriend.

 

He laughs at how ridiculous it sounds and he didn’t even say it out loud. That’s why his mother was so ecstatic. She never thought the day would come. It still hasn’t, but at least now she isn’t riding him about it. She thinks he’s getting serious about life now that he’s getting older, and Louis’ just fine letting her believe it.

 

After all, it’s just a tiny white lie and white lies were practically made to keep nagging, grandchild-driven mothers off of their gay sons’ backs.

 

~*~

 

Harry takes out his earbuds and safely tucks them away in his back pocket along with his phone when he enters the bookshop. He grins at the few customers milling about before walking over towards Niall behind the counter to relieve him.

 

“You’re here early,” he smiles at Harry, already stepping from behind the counter to let Harry take his place.

 

“Yeah, I got out of class early, so I decided to head on over.”

 

Niall’s lips turn up into a smirk. “Class ended early and you came _here_? Most people do something productive when that happens like taking a nap.”

 

“I would have, but my roommate was home when I got there.”

 

Niall frowns at him. “So, what? I nap with my roommate in the room all the time. What’s wrong with that?”

 

Harry doesn’t know why he feels weird about Louis. He seemed nice enough when they moved in a couple of weeks ago. He’s a year ahead of him and even helped Harry carry in some of his boxes. He was a good person to have around while Harry got adjusted to uni life those first couple of days, but when he started mentioning his great new roommate to other people, he noticed that the rest of campus didn’t seem to share his opinion. He would get knowing smirks whenever he said his name. ‘ _Louis Tomlinson’s your roommate? Good luck with that,’_ was the general consensus. Harry didn’t understand why until he started hearing the stories.

 

He’s got a bit of a reputation. Well, okay, he’s got one hell of a reputation. Apparently he’s slept with half of the football team and that’s only because the other half isn’t gay or curious. He’s always seen with different people, but according to everyone he’s talked to, the boys he dates don’t last longer than a few days. According to one girl in his philosophy class, she’s had lectures last longer than one of Louis’ flings.

 

Harry doesn’t usually listen to gossip. It’s not fair to judge someone on things that you know nothing of, but the things that people say about his roommate are pretty hard to ignore. Especially when Harry catches him staring like he was earlier when he was on the phone. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Louis or anything like that, because he does. Louis seems fine, Harry just doesn’t think he wants to associate himself with someone with a reputation like his anymore than he has to. It’s for the best.

 

“I don’t know Niall, he’s just-” Harry had thought about sharing all the different things he’s heard about Louis, but changes his mind at the last minute. He already gets enough free publicity around campus without Harry joining in. “I just don’t know him very well,” he decides on. It’s vague, but not so vague that Niall will ask questions.

 

Thankfully, Niall doesn’t find his answer strange. He just shrugs and then leaves Harry to his shift once the manager gives him the okay to leave.

 

“I’m heading out. See you, mate!” he calls as he’s walking out the door.

 

“Bye, see you later,” Harry calls as he starts sorting the new stack of novels that Niall had begun putting away but clearly didn’t get to finish.

 

He flips through them for any rogue bookmarks, checks the author on the spine of each one, and then places it in a new pile. He takes each book to where it should go, and makes sure no other books from that section are out of their rightful place. It’s slow work. _Very_ slow work, but he needs the money. And besides, Harry loves reading, so he doesn’t mind spending his time amongst the pages and pages of great works surrounding him.

 

He’s tired, though. He has been almost this whole week from not sleeping well in an unfamiliar bed. He misses his mattress from home, even though he keeps telling himself that uni is his new home. Uni. With his dorm, and his classes, and his job, and his roommate who thinks men are disposable and sex is a game.

 

Harry shakes his head. He didn’t think people like that actually existed outside of bad movies. No one in his hometown was ever like that. Not many people in his hometown are technically out either, so that may be why Harry’s never met someone like Louis.

 

Harry can’t believe that he has to live with him for the next year. He should’ve done the housing applications early like his best mate Zayn told him to. He guesses he’ll just have to suck it up and bear it though, because living with Louis Tomlinson can’t possibly be as awful as everyone thinks it’ll be. It just can’t.

 

~*~

 

Louis trudges his way through the crowd of people standing around the entrance of the dining hall. He utters quick _'excuse me's_ ' as he squeezes by to grab random items of food, thoroughly confusing his mother on the phone who thinks he's saying it to _her_ even after he's explained that he isn't nearly a dozen times.

 

Louis finds the table that he and his mate, Liam usually sit at to be occupied by a group of girls, so Louis scouts out an empty table by the window and sits there instead as his mother continues to talk his ear off.

 

"Mum, not that this call isn’t a lovely surprise and all, but don't you have something you're supposed to be doing right now, like your _job_ for instance?"

 

She called claiming she was on her lunch break and missed him. Apparently lunch lasts all day in her world.

 

"Aren't you supposed to be answering my question?" she fires back.

 

"Mum, he's from Holmes Chapel. That's all I can really tell you. He has a sister. I can't remember anymore than that," he says, frankly because his roommate never told him any more than that before he got all weird and introverted around him.

 

Jay huffs into the receiver, clearly unsatisfied with Louis' immense lack of detail and interest in his own boyfriend. She starts off on another round of twenty million questions, but luckily for Louis, his best mate pokes his head around the corner in search of him, giving Louis the perfect excuse to get off the phone.

 

"Oh, Mum, would you look at that! We were just talking about Harry, and now he's just shown up to surprise me for lunch. God, he's so sweet. I've got to go. Bye. Love you," he says before swiftly hanging up. The last thing he hears is his mother yelling for him to tell Harry hello.

 

When Louis glances up at a confused looking Liam, he kind of wishes he hadn't.

 

"Is there a specific reason why you just told your mother that I'm Harry?" Liam laughs as he throws his backpack containing his things for class over his chair and lets his bag containing all of his stuff for football practice clatter to the floor. He drops down into his seat still wearing his kit, already digging into his tray of food with a raised eyebrow pointed directly at Louis since he has yet to answer his question.

 

Louis sighs letting his forehead hit the table. He contemplates just staying there and taking a power nap.

 

"Because she thinks I have a boyfriend, so I told her that I'm dating him."

 

" _Right_ ," Liam says slowly as he eyes his friend. "Harry, as in, your mute roommate Harry who never talks?"

 

Louis rolls his eyes. "He talks," Louis says in his roommate’s defense, "You know, just not to _me_." Which is strange because whenever he sees Harry around campus he seems plenty chatty with everyone else. Louis still can't put his finger on why he's yet to warm to him.

 

"So... _are_ you dating him, then?" Liam asks, causing Louis to frown at the overripe banana in his hands.

 

"What? Of course not," Louis laughs. "You said it yourself, Li, he's practically mute. And you and I both know that I don't _date_ or whatever. Not like, _for real_ anyway," he explains when Liam raises an unconvinced eyebrow.

 

"You _could_ date someone. You just don't want to."

 

"Oh, but I _am_ dating someone, remember?” Louis smiles. “A _fake_ someone. His name’s Harold and we're desperately in love. The sun rises and falls in his eyes and all that stuff. He completes me." Louis’ never actually been in love, but he gets the overall gist of what it’s like according to other people. Louis and Harry’s love is completely fictional of course, but that’s not what’s important here.

 

"Harry isn't fake, you nutter. He's your roommate and you're lying to your mother about him, but don’t worry. I'm not judging," Liam assures him as he continues eating rather than gawking at his friend in disbelief.

 

"Oh, really? Because it sure sounds an awful lot like you're judging.”

 

"Nope,” Liam shrugs. “I think you're a complete idiot of course, but what else is new?"

 

Liam has a point. His best friend calls him an idiot more days than not, usually because Louis is doing something idiotic, so Louis guesses that's a pretty fair call.

 

He gets back home that afternoon before Harry, much the way he usually does during the week since Harry’s classes apparently last for fucking ever.

 

Louis throws his backpack somewhere near his desk as soon as he walks in and immediately flops down on his bed for a much needed afternoon snooze. Apparently he’s not as tired as he thought because he fidgets around in bed trying to find a comfortable position, his sleepless, annoyed gaze aimed first at the ceiling, the wall, and then finally Harry’s side of the room.

 

It’s so different and neat over there, he notices. Much more so than Louis’ side where most of his belongings live on the floor in assorted piles around his bed. Louis calls it organized chaos. Everyone else just calls it a mess. Everyone else except for his roommate, that is, but that’s only because he doesn’t say much of anything at all.

 

Phone calls from his mother have been going quite well since Louis had the brilliant idea to lie through his teeth about his current relationship status. To her, he’s becoming the motivated, serious, life-driven type right before her very eyes and his mother has honestly never been more thrilled. She calls every few days to ask how he’s doing and how his classes are going, but then she swoops in and asks the questions she _really_ wants to know; questions about this mysterious boyfriend he has all of a sudden. And it’s been great telling his mother any and everything he knows about his roommate, Harry. Except for the fact that he doesn’t actually know a whole lot and he’s quickly running out of details to give her.

 

Louis accepts defeat in terms of his nap and sits up, throwing a quick glance at the door. It’s Wednesday. Harry’s usually not back until around four or five. It’s only just after three right now, so that should give Louis plenty of time to poke around and get some new material for when his mother calls again to inquire about her potential future son-in-law. Louis doesn’t need long. Just a minute or two.

 

He’s standing and walking over to Harry’s side of the room without giving his plan much more thought than that, praying that Harry’s class doesn’t dismiss early today.

 

He tells himself that it isn’t technically snooping. On the contrary. He’s simply doing research to keep the tower of lies he’s built about the two of them from toppling over. Going over to Harry’s side of the room is a necessity, really.

 

The first thing Louis notices as he stands in unfamiliar territory is that unlike Louis’ things, Harry’s aren’t really strewn all over the floor. There’s nothing good that he can deduce from that other than the assumption that Harry is relatively neat, which is something Louis already knew. Harry’s bed isn’t actually made as it appears to be. He’s just got the blanket pulled over his crumpled up sheets to make it seem that way; an optical illusion of sorts, but that’s already a great deal more effort than Louis puts in when he kicks out of his sheets and blanket each morning.

 

There are running shoes poking out from beneath the bed that Louis has seen him tying on at least three times a week, so he knows that Harry likes to stay active, and he’s got a guitar that sits in the corner by his desk that Louis assumes he can play, however he’s never actually seen or heard evidence of this.

 

Sadly, he only has a few dvd’s and every single one of them is some awful romantic comedy that’s more horrible than the last. Louis had actually noticed Harry’s lack of taste in the world of film when he helped Harry carry in some of his boxes on move-in weekend. There isn’t a single movie here that wasn’t filmed within the last decade. Tragic.

 

Louis sighs after a few minutes thinking through all these basic things that he already knows about his roommate just from living with him for the past month. He needs something else. Something fresh and new _,_ so he goes over to Harry’s desk and decides to poke around there.

 

He’s studying English which is something Louis has been skeptical about from day one. He didn’t realize that was something that people actually did. He thought majors like English and Philosophy were pretty much tall-tales and myths, but apparently not, Louis realizes as he reads through the stacks of books and works on his desk, _all_ organized by genre.

 

His work space is covered in all the things Louis hated reading when he was younger. All of the things teachers make you read like classic novels and ‘ _short’_ -stories that could’ve always been a tad bit shorter in Louis’ opinion. He can’t believe someone would willingly read this stuff for the next four years of their life and for _fun_. The only time Louis cares about a novel or short story is when it’s worthy enough to have been adapted to film and be shown on the big screen.

 

Louis is just heading back to his side of the room when he realizes that he hasn’t paid much attention to Harry’s bedside table. It’s an exact replica of his own, and there’s nothing on top of it except a lamp, phone charger, and a pair of sunglasses he usually wears to hold his hair back while he’s walking to class. It’s still not good enough, so he quickly pulls open the drawer to find a journal of some kind that Louis only flips through for a moment. He can’t tell whether or not it’s filled with quotes or song lyrics, but whatever the little scribbles are Harry seems to like them a lot, because the leather-bound book is absolutely bursting with them.

 

He digs a little further inside the drawer and finds an inhaler that Louis wasn’t aware that his fake boyfriend needed along with some more pens, an extra set of earbuds, a box of large-sized condoms (unopened Louis notices), and a ton of other random shit that Harry’s managed to accumulate within a month’s time. Louis finds things that he’s used to seeing in his sisters’ rooms back home like headbands and hair ties, but it makes sense since Harry has a shitload of hair. He frowns when his fingers come across yet another inhaler stuffed at the back of the drawer. How shitty are this kid’s lungs anyway, he thinks before he realizes what he’s pulled from the drawer isn’t an inhaler at all, but a pretty decent-sized dildo alongside a bottle of lube that’s more than half-empty.

 

Louis drops them like they’re on fire with his cheeks flaring up in the same fashion as he fixes the drawer back to normal. He hurries to close it and then scurries back to his side of the room where the films are good, the condoms are normal-sized, and the sex toys are better hidden in a box beneath his bed. Why Louis thought going through Harry’s things would be a good idea is beyond him. It’s probably the dumbest thing he’s done in a while. This is why Louis can’t really argue with Liam when he calls Louis an idiot no less than a couple times of week. He’s so right.

 

The door swings open just after four o’clock causing Louis to straighten up where he’s now working at his desk. He tries to appear as normal and unsuspicious as possible, so naturally, Louis does the most suspicious thing he could probably do and grins at the roommate that he hardly even speaks to.

 

“Hello, there,” he greets, cementing this moment as the second dumbest thing he’s done today.

 

Harry blinks over at him after a few seconds with a small crease forming between his eyebrows. “Sorry. Did you say something?”

 

And Louis thinks that’s a pretty rude question to ask someone who just clearly spoke until he notices the tiny speakers that Harry pulls out of his ears.

 

“Uh- no, I didn’t,” Louis stammers, willing his mind to think of something else, anything else besides the contents of Harry’s fucking _sex drawer_. “I was just saying hi,” he explains awkwardly, hoping he doesn’t sound as suspicious as he thinks he does.

 

“Oh,” Harry blinks at him again like he didn’t actually expect for Louis to have said anything. “Hi, Louis,” he says back with a tiny quirk of his lips that almost looks genuine.

 

Louis releases the breath he was holding when his roommate continues walking into their room unfazed. He sneakily peeks over his shoulder to see Harry changing his outfit to go for a run and internally celebrates. If Harry’s gone then Louis can go double-check his drawer and make sure he put everything back the way he found it.

 

Harry quickly ties on his shoes before heading for the door to leave. Louis lets the tension ease out of his shoulders when Harry steps out of the room, but his heart seizes in his chest again when Harry doubles back into the room and makes a beeline right for his bedside table. Louis doesn’t dare move or breathe while Harry bypasses the sunglasses Louis thought he was after, watching on in horror as he searches for whatever he needs inside the drawer, and all Louis can think over and over again is ‘please don’t notice that I moved your dildo’.

 

He doesn’t. Or at least, Louis assumes he doesn’t because he closes the drawer as soon as he grabs his running armband. He slips his arm through it and secures his phone to the strap before crossing the room again.

 

“Bye,” Harry says with a quick wave in Louis’ direction before finally stepping of the door and letting it close behind him.

 

Louis lets his head bang against the hard wood of his desk when all the blood returns to his face. God, he is _never_ doing something this dumb again... Well, probably.

 

~*~

 

“Zayn, are you even listening to me anymore?” Harry asks where he’s stretched out across his friend’s bed.

 

“Nope. Can’t say that I am,” Zayn mumbles as he further dials his concentration in on the sketch he’s been working on for the past half an hour. He’s gotten pretty good at ignoring Harry and his various interruptions over the years. Scarily good, actually. Sometimes it’s like Zayn is in a completely different world while he's working, however, he’s smirking right now, so Harry knows he’s listening more than he’s letting on. “Yes, I’m listening,” he admits after a while.

 

“So, you heard what I said about my drawer, then?”

 

Zayn meets Harry’s gaze and rolls his eyes. He lets his pencil fall from his grip and slides his drawing over to the side to give himself a short break. “You’re being weirdly paranoid about him. Your roommate isn’t going through any of your stuff.”

 

Harry would like to believe that Louis hasn’t been messing with his things. Hopefully he hasn’t been. “Yeah, maybe you’re right,” he sighs. Harry doesn’t know for sure whether his things were even moved or not. He just had this feeling and thought his drawer looked slightly different the other day when he opened it, but maybe he’s just losing it.

 

“What’s in there that’s so important anyway?”

 

“Nothing,” Harry quickly answers. Perhaps a bit too quick from the unconvinced smirk on his friend’s face. Zayn thinks he’s being paranoid, but he feels like he has good reason to be. Although, to be fair, his extreme paranoia is probably the result of stress rather than his roommate. Stress, and the restless sleep away from his bed at home that he’s still trying to adjust to.

 

“Did you hear me about my assignment?” Harry asks, already frowning just from bringing it up again because he still has no clue what the hell to write about.

 

“The romance thing? Harry, all you ever read are novels and books about love. You’ll be fine,” he assures him.

 

Harry groans and rolls over face-first into one of Zayn’s pillows. This is his first big assignment and he doesn’t want to fuck it up. When he sits up, Zayn is watching him with a bored, blank expression. “ _Yes_ , I enjoy classic poems and stories about people falling in love from time to time, but I don’t know anything about romance through the bloody ages. I’ve never even read a modern romance novel. How am I supposed to write about something like that?”

 

Zayn lets him pout for a grand total of five minutes before going back to his own assignment with a confident, “You’re stressing out over nothing. You’ll figure it out,” mumbled in Harry’s direction.

 

Harry sure hopes he’s right.

 

He’s back in his own room later that night, picking up where he left off whining to Zayn by whining to his mother instead on the phone, essentially starting the complaining process all over again. Well, he leaves out part where he suspects Louis has been poking around the drawer that contains his dildo, but he makes sure to properly whine about everything else including his assignment.

 

“But what if I _don’t_ figure it out?” he asks.

 

“Harry, you’re brilliant. Of course you will,” she assures him.

 

He sighs long and hard, gaining the attention of his roommate who is currently working over on his bed with his computer perched on his lap. Louis tries to be discreet as he glances up, but Harry catches the movement anyway. His roommate quickly ducks his head back down and continues typing when he momentarily meets Harry’s eyes.

 

“I just- I want to do well,” he tells his mother. School has always been important to him, and nothing has changed now that he’s at uni. The assignments are harder, sure, but that doesn’t mean Harry’s giving up quite so easily. He still expects the best from himself.

 

“You’ll figure it out, love. You always do,” she says, which is pretty much exactly what Zayn told him earlier. They do that a lot without even knowing it.

 

“Yeah, Mum. I hope so. Thanks,” Harry whispers into the receiver. He doesn’t miss the small movement of Louis’ head again when he briefly peeks over at him.

 

~*~

 

Louis’ production class lets out early on Thursday, giving him the perfect opportunity to treat himself to a nice lunch away from the dining hall. He texts Liam and tells him to leave his biology class early so they can eat together, but he downright refuses so Louis ends up eating deliciously greasy pizza by himself.

 

He doesn’t really mean to wind up at Harry’s job on his way home from lunch, and yet somehow that’s exactly what happens when he turns the corner and sees the little shop with the open sign visible in the window.

 

Louis has seen this place a million times, but he’s never actually gone inside. He buys all of his course books from the student book store on campus, and books read for pleasure pretty much have no place in Louis’ world so he’s never had a good reason to go in. He doesn’t have a good reason now either except for the fact that his fake boyfriend now works here and Louis’ mother hasn’t called in a few days, so he knows it’s only a matter of time before she rings him up looking to hear all about what he and Harry have been up to.

 

He has vowed to never go through Harry’s things again, so that means he now has to resort to other means of getting to know him. Checking out the bookshop doesn’t seem quite as extreme as going through his roommate’s stuff, so he goes for it. He might as well.

 

The faint scent of aged paper and leather fills Louis' nose the moment he walks into the shop. He's never been here before and he immediately regrets not taking the time to come inside because he feels so tranquil and cozy just from standing in the entranceway. Books of every size fill the shelves that shoot up from the floor to the ceiling, and there are large, plush armchairs dotted along the edges of the room that are pretty worn, but just enough to make Louis want to settle down for a while and possibly curl up with one of the stories on the shelves. It's a lovely, peaceful image, he thinks as he considers doing just that. Especially for someone like him who enjoys the fast pace of film too much to ever sit down with a long book. Reading could be sort of nice he guesses, but that's not what he's here for today.

 

He keeps walking until he comes to the front counter which is as weathered and antique-looking as everything else in the shop. It’s covered with multiple stacks of books as well; books that will at some point be shelved by someone; that someone most likely being Harry based on the abandoned, open laptop resting near the cash register.

 

Louis turns the screen of the laptop towards himself to further inspect it, instantly recognizing it as his roommate’s by the small chip on the left side of the keyboard. His eyes do a quick assessment of the room for the laptop’s owner and come up short. He can hear a couple of people quietly moving about near the back of the shop, but there’s virtually nobody up front. Nobody except for Louis which must be why his roommate felt so comfortable leaving his things out for the time being.

 

The screen of the laptop is still illuminated, although dimmed from lack of use, so Harry must have only just walked away. Louis squints to see what’s pulled up, allowing his curiosity get the better of him as he does another quick check around the room before touching the touchpad to better see what Harry’s been up to while he’s supposed to be working.

 

If there was any doubt of whether or not this is Harry’s laptop, all possibilities of it are erased as soon as he sees the instructions for the English assignment that his roommate has been complaining about all week.

 

Louis scrolls through it, rolling his eyes at the multiple tabs Harry has open in his attempt to research the evolution of romance throughout time and literature. He’s been looking up romance novels and love stories, all of which sound like pure torture to have to actually read. Harry has whined about this assignment so much that now even Louis knows the ins and outs of it. All he has to do is write about romance and love and how they’ve changed over the years. It’s an easy enough assignment Louis thinks, but Harry doesn’t know where to start. That much is evident since the boy has been looking up Shakespeare and Jane Austen. He must plan to read everything they’ve ever written too based on the large stack of their works and other classic literature on the counter.

 

It’s not really his place nor his responsibility to help Harry, but the poor sod has been beating himself up all week over this, so Louis decides to take pity on him and set him loose in the right direction because Harry’s heart is in the right place, he’s just going about it all wrong. Louis grabs a pen and sticky pad from behind the counter and scribbles out a quick note. He doesn’t see this as  _meddling_ per se. It’s just a small message. Some friendly, unsolicited advice that Harry may or may not choose to ignore. A quick note that could technically have been written by anyone since he’s left the front of the store unmanned. It’s a win-win situation because Harry will get help with his assignment, Louis won’t have to hear him whining about it anymore, and no one will even know that he was here.

 

The note only takes a few seconds to write out, but by the time he’s done he can hear someone moving through the shop who sounds like they’re much closer than they were when Louis first walked in.

 

He has no way of knowing if it’s Harry or not, but he really doesn’t want to explain why he’s loitering at the front of the bookshop alone so he quickly sticks the note to the front of Harry’s screen and then rushes to make it to the door before the person catches sight of him. Louis grins when he’s back out on the street, enjoying the rush of nearly getting caught so much more than the last time he did something like this and found out more about his roommate than he ever needed to know.

 

He gets a phone call from his mother during his walk back home and Louis is quick to answer all of her questions, sounding more confident than ever when she asks how Harry is doing.

 

“Oh, he’s been so busy with work and classes,” he tells her. “He’s got this one assignment that’s been giving him trouble all week, but I think he’s finally got it figured out.” His mother is thrilled to hear it.

 

~*~

 

Harry walks back to the front counter cradling his heap of classic works in his arms. He places them down beside the other books he’s already commandeered for his assignment when he glances around his workspace and freezes.

 

He’s the only one working in the shop since it’s a slow day, but that feeling like something is different again creeps over him just like that evening in his dorm room. Maybe he really is losing it, he thinks. Zayn said he was being paranoid, and Harry would actually agree with him at this point, except there’s now a sticky note attached to the screen of his laptop. A note that definitely wasn’t there before he left. Harry was only gone for five minutes at most when he went off in search of more books. He didn’t hear anybody come into the shop, but that doesn’t mean someone couldn’t have quietly popped in during that short amount of time. And clearly, someone did.

 

Nothing else seems out of sorts besides the lone sticky note so Harry peels it off of his laptop, his eyebrows scrunching together from this anonymous tip someone saw fit to leave for him.

 

‘ _Romance isn’t for the books anymore, it’s for the screen,’_ is all it says along with a random list of films. He hasn’t seen any of them, and he’s honestly at a loss as to why this mysterious person thought these films could possibly help him with his English assignment of all things. It’s strange and has to be the weirdest thing that’s happened to Harry at work since he moved here, but something makes him fold up the note and slide it into the pocket of jeans rather than crumpling it and tossing it out.

 

Harry stares at the sea of books in front of him, shaking his head when he thinks about the message he feels practically burning against his thigh. Who in the world would do something so unusual?

 

~*~

 

Louis doesn’t really expect to find Harry already in their room when he returns from his study group that night. Harry has been spending most of his evenings in the library, so he’s shocked to see him lying on the bed. He’s even more surprised when he notices Harry’s usual ocean of books has been replaced by his laptop and a pair of large headphones.

 

Louis waves. They do that now, or at least they try and acknowledge each other’s existence ever since that day Louis blurted out that awkward hello after rummaging through his stuff. Harry momentarily blinks up from his screen and says hello before quickly ducking his head to focus on his laptop again.

 

He’s so completely engrossed in whatever it is that he’s watching that he doesn’t even notice Louis walk up next to him to be nosy and see what’s got him so preoccupied.

 

“What are you watching?” he asks loud enough to be heard over the volume. Harry slides the left side of his headphones away from his ear to better hear him.

 

“Casablanca. I’m watching it for this assignment I have,” he answers brightly, causing Louis to bite down on the grin he can feel tugging at his lips. So, he got his little note after all. Louis nearly laughs, wondering if Harry really thinks Louis doesn’t know about his assignment after all the fuss he’s made about it.

 

“Oh, really? And what do you think about it so far?”

 

Harry pauses the movie and meets his gaze. Louis hasn’t had very many opportunities to speak to Harry this close up, but each time they’ve had short conversations, he’s blown away by the beauty of his eyes. Kind of like he is right now. He honestly couldn’t have chosen a better person to pretend to date.

 

“I like it a lot,” Harry smiles. “It’s in black and white so I thought it’d be boring and I’d hate it, but it’s actually really good.”

 

Louis fondly rolls his eyes at his young roommate who apparently can’t focus on anything for longer than five minutes unless it’s in bright, shiny Technicolor. “It’s a good movie. A classic. I’m glad you’re enjoying it. It’s one of my favorites,” Louis tells him, wondering why he’s chosen to share this bit of information about himself. Harry doesn’t seem to mind though, grinning a bit when Louis does and then scooting over to pat the empty space beside him.

 

“Well, do you want to watch the end with me? It’s nearly done,” he offers.

 

Louis is surprised to receive such an invitation from Harry considering the way the boy used to avoid him. Louis’ natural instinct is to politely decline. He doesn’t think he should get any more invested in his roommate than he already is, but those eyes of his are so green and filled with something resembling hope that Louis finds himself gingerly sitting down next to him so they can share the weight of the laptop. Harry quickly unplugs the headphones so they can both hear and eagerly hits play.

 

Louis decides right then and there that leaving Harry that note was a good thing after all because he hasn’t seen Harry this stress-free in days, and Louis doesn’t exactly mind watching his favorite film next to his roommate slash fake boyfriend. It seems a good classic film can cure almost anything. Even pesky English assignments.

 

Apparently, Louis’ harmless little suggestion was a blessing for his roommate, because he comes home a couple of weeks later with the brightest smile Louis has ever seen as he speaks to his mother on the phone. Louis can tell it’s her because he isn’t rolling his eyes and being a snarky little shit like he does whenever he’s talking to his friend Zayn.

 

Harry thanks her about a thousand times for her support before they eventually hang up, and Louis knows it isn’t technically his place to comment, but his mouth starts moving before his brain has time to stop it.

 

“Your paper went well, then?” he asks. He regrets it as soon as he says it, but then Harry turns to him with that huge, dimply smile that Louis is becoming quite fond of and suddenly everything feels okay.

 

“It did! My professor said she was so impressed with me especially since this was our first big assignment. I felt kind of guilty about it because I had a bit of help getting started, but it all worked out it the end, so I won’t complain.”

 

Louis smiles at his roommate’s story and congratulates him on a job well done, the whole time remembering how unsure he was about leaving that sticky note for him. What he did was random as hell. Liam would probably even call it reckless if Louis told him about it, which is something he most definitely hasn’t done because he doesn’t need the lecture. But when Harry is so happy and pleased like this, Louis can deal with the immorality of inserting himself into his affairs like he has any kind of right to do so. “I’m glad it all worked out for you,” he says, causing Harry’s face to light up even more.

 

It’s a couple of nights later while Harry is gone to dinner with his friend that Louis is on the phone with his own mother regaling her with yet another tale about his significant other. He’s gotten quite good at describing all the wonderful components of their big, fake relationship. He’s gotten too good at it really, because instead of his mother asking for him to tell Harry hello, she changes the game completely and causes Louis’ heart to drop from his chest.

 

“It’s been two months, and I’ve yet to see even a picture of Harry,” she whines. “When do I finally get to meet him?”

 

Louis’ mouth goes dry.

 

“Er- what do you mean?” he asks, horrified that she’s ruining his perfect plan. This whole lie he’s constructed is so great because he can appear to be seriously dating someone while simultaneously appeasing his mother without _actually_ having to do it.

 

“I _mean_ I want to meet him,” she says impatiently. “He’s been your boyfriend for over two months. I think I’m entitled to at least meeting the boy by now, don’t you?”

 

“No,” Louis answers back a fast as he can.

 

“ _No?”_ she asks, incredulous and perhaps a bit hurt.

 

“I mean- not _no_ , just- just not yet...”

 

Jay seems less offended when he stutters out his correction but that doesn’t means she drops the topic.

 

“When would be good for you then, Louis? A year from now? At your wedding, maybe? Perhaps at your kids’ graduation?”

 

Louis doesn’t even realize he’s rolling his eyes until after he’s started doing it. When hell freezes over is a more accurate guess for when she’ll get to meet his boyfriend seeing as how he doesn’t actually have one.

 

“You’ll meet him, Mum. Stop being so dramatic,” he says when she whines that he’s keeping her future son-in-law under lock and key to torture her, but she perks right up when he says that.

 

“Really?” she gasps. “When? Soon?”

 

“Um…well, I don’t know exactly. I’ll have to talk to him. You know how busy he is all the time with school and work and all that…”

 

Louis’ mother huffs into the receiver. Louis gives himself a mental high-five for thinking up a good enough excuse to stump her.

 

“Well, what about over Christmas break? There are no classes going on during that time, the campus will be shut down so he won’t be working. You’ll both be headed home for the holidays, and he’ll have plenty of time to come visit everyone here because Holmes Chapel is less than two hours away. Don’t worry. I checked,” she assures him, probably wearing a proud smile for coming up with such a brilliant compromise. Louis fails to see the genius behind her plan.

 

“Mum, you want him to ditch his own family at Christmas to come and hang out with ours?”

 

“No, of course not,” she scoffs. “I don’t want to steal him away or anything, I just want to meet the boy. You’ll both be out of school for weeks. Are you honestly saying that your boyfriend can’t spare a couple of _days_ to come see you?”

 

His mother’s question started out very neutral, but it has quickly turned judgmental now that she thinks Harry won’t make time for her son.

 

“…I’ll talk to him about it,” Louis says, already planning his and Harry’s epic breakup so that he can get out of this train wreck. He won’t do it right away. He’ll wait a couple of weeks and tell his mother how they’ve been arguing all the time and growing apart, and then he’ll break the sad news and tell her that they just couldn’t work it out.

 

“Me getting to see you the two of you would be the best Christmas gift ever! I hope he agrees to come up, even if it’s just for a day.” His mother sounds so excited just from Louis’ promise to ask Harry to consider coming to Doncaster for the holidays that Louis feels a flash of guilt shoot through his gut, imaging how disappointed she’ll be to hear that they’ve broken up before she even got a chance to meet him.

 

Louis feels the guilt stabbing at him again, knowing that it would crush her. He can’t believe his own ears when his mouth starts moving and promises his mother that his boyfriend will be there.

 

Louis regrets their entire conversation the moment he and his mother hang up, and he continues regretting it for the next week each time Harry walks into their room with a friendly smile aimed in his direction. Louis keeps promising himself that he won’t do stupid things that make him rethink his entire existence on the planet, and yet here he is, hating himself for getting into this situation to begin with.

 

His mother is under the impression that she will finally get to meet his boyfriend in less than two months and Louis has no game plan. Harry has come around since the beginning of school and now seems more open to them becoming friends. They now tell each other where they’re going out and when they can be expected back. They greet one another when they come home and even chat a bit when they’re both procrastinating doing school work, and it’s nice. Their relationship is much improved, but not enough for Harry to agree to come to his bloody house over Christmas holiday, and definitely not enough to convince his mother that they’re together.

 

He considers telling Liam about his latest self-inflicted conundrum, but decides against it, knowing that Liam’s advice will be to just come clean. That could’ve possibly been an option for Louis had he told the truth about him and Harry after the first time that he lied, but the stack of lies is so thick now that gouging his own eyes out sounds more appealing than admitting the truth. He needs to think of a plan that doesn’t involve his mother hating him. A task much easier said than done.

 

It comes to Louis one night when he gets in from the library to find Harry all curled up in his bed, the only light in the room coming from the movie he’s watching on his laptop. He pokes his head up when he hears the door close, offering Louis a small grin as a hello.

 

Louis hangs his backpack over his desk chair and toes off his shoes, his eyebrow raised in curiosity when he recognizes the familiar music and dialogue of one his favorite films playing from Harry’s side of the room.

 

“Is that Roman Holiday?”

 

“Mhmm,” Harry confirms as he pauses the movie to sit up and turn on his lamp. “It was recommended by a friend along with a bunch of other films. It’s really good so far. I can’t believe I’ve never seen it.”

 

Louis stills where he was just starting to change into more comfortable clothes beside his wardrobe.

 

“Er- You said a friend recommended them?”

 

“Yeah.” Harry’s eyebrows knit together a bit as he chuckles to himself. “I say friend, but I don’t really know which one it is. It’s the same person who helped me with my assignment. I know it has to be someone from my class obviously. I just can’t figure out who.”

 

“Oh.” The clenching feeling his Louis’ chest relaxes considerably once he realizes he hasn’t been caught. “Well, it was nice of that person to help you then,” Louis says effectively ending the conversation so he doesn’t further incriminate himself. Or so he thought before Harry starts it up again.

 

“Yeah, it was. I wish I knew who they were. I’d like to thank them for helping me, but also for having such great taste,” he smiles, gesturing to the frozen screen of his laptop. “I wish I could figure out who they are. They seem pretty cool,” he jokes, and just like that, Louis finds his solution.

 

This would be the perfect moment for Louis to come clean and confess to being the very person Harry is searching for, but it’s like the gods have bestowed the perfect opportunity for him to fix this entire mess without having his mother murder him. Harry likes him. Well, he likes the mysterious, sticky note version of him, but that’s just as good. That means they’re already halfway there.

 

Louis waits another few days before going back to the bookshop. He goes on the same day and at the same time in hopes that things will be just as slow as they were on his first visit.

 

He walks into the shop and lets the familiar scent of the air calm the bit of nerves he feels coursing through him. The front isn’t as empty as it was the last time he was here, but thankfully, Harry is nowhere in sight.

 

Louis bravely inches up to the counter, wary because he has no idea where his roommate is. His laptop isn’t there today and there aren’t any overflowing piles of books sitting out either; there’s just one. The little journal that Louis recognizes from Harry’s bedside table. The one he sometimes sees him writing in when he thinks Louis isn’t looking.

 

He doesn’t have much time to deliberate about the technicalities of this. He decides to leave the note he scribbled out during class inside of the journal so that there’s no mistaking who it’s meant for. He gets perplexed looks from the few customers aimlessly sifting through the shelves. Louis can’t really blame them. He’s sure he looks like a right nutter tiptoeing into a bookshop to wordlessly shove a piece of paper into a journal. He’s just glad Harry wasn’t one of the ones to witness his strange behavior.

 

~*~

 

Harry walks with his new customer from the romance section of the shop, grinning as the old man thanks him for his help. He gives Harry the two books in his hands so he can ring them up once they reach the counter.

 

The man grins and waits patiently on the opposite side of it as he digs his wallet out of his pocket, but Harry has yet to ring up his things due to that familiar feeling of something being different washing over him yet again. His eyes dart all over the surface of the counter until they land on his journal which is slightly askew from the way he left it.

 

“Is something wrong?” the man asks, his eyes zeroing in on the smile growing on Harry’s face as he stares down at the leather-bound book.

 

“Uh, it’s nothing. Everything is fine,” he assures the man after he forces himself to look away from the journal and actually do his job. He hurries to ring up the man’s purchases and places them in a bag with a quick ‘come back soon’. He waits until the man leaves before snatching up his journal.

 

He turns it over in his hands and feels his hopes sink when there’s no sticky note attached to the cover. Harry sighs. He had been so sure that the person had been back to leave him another message. He’s about to chalk it all up to him being crazy when he opens the book to the front cover and finds a folded up piece of notebook paper inside.

 

‘ _Hiya, Curly. So, what are your thoughts on modern romance now? Hope you enjoyed my list. P.S. Congratulations on your assignment. You deserve it!’_

 

Harry probably reads the words twenty times in the span of thirty seconds with how quickly his mind is racing. The person did come back…it’s just too bad they didn’t stick around.

 

“Hey,” Harry says, startling the few customers browsing around the front of the shop. Harry adjusts his volume and tries again when he gets more than a few raised eyebrows. “Er- Excuse me. Did any of you see someone leave a message at the front desk?”

 

“Someone came in and flipped through the book lying there,” says a woman with blonde hair. “He was only here for a minute or two before he left,” she shrugs.

 

_He._

 

“Did he say anything? Did you see what he looked like?” Harry sounds desperate, but it’s only because he is. This seemingly wonderful person has randomly appeared in his life. Harry would very much like to know who they are. Or rather who _he_ is.

 

“Uh, he was wearing dark jeans and a t-shirt. He had brown hair. He was shorter than you...he didn’t say anything.”

 

“Oh,” Harry sighs, realizing that half of the boys in the English department fit that description.

 

His disappointment only lasts a few seconds when he pulls out the note again to read it, grinning because he was just asked a specific question by his friend, and that means he needs to give an answer. All Harry has to do now is figure out how to get it to him.

 

Harry is at his desk later that night when his roommate walks in from having dinner with his friend Liam. He says a bright hello which Harry returns, but it’s half-hearted since he’s so focused on the reply he’s busy writing out.

 

From the corner of his eye, he sees Louis curiously peeking over at him from his side of the room.

“You’re working very hard. What are you doing over here?” he chuckles on his way over to Harry’s desk. The amusement in his eyes fades when Harry discreetly uses his arm to cover the piece of paper and his journal the best that he can.

 

“Uh, it’s nothing,” he assures Louis, who obviously can still see the things he was just so engrossed in based on the suspicious way he’s now watching him. Harry momentarily panics, thinking Louis will ask more questions. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Louis enough to tell him about what’s going on, it just feels like something he should keep to himself for now. The situation is already weird enough without having to voice it out loud to an outsider.

 

Thankfully Louis doesn’t ask. He just grins at him good-naturedly when Harry continues trying to shield his note.

 

“Okay then. Well, good luck with whatever you’re working on,” he smirks before going back to his side of the room. Harry takes his roommate’s good luck blessing to heart, knowing he’s going to need all he can get for this to work out.

 

Harry has no clue when his mysterious friend will come back to the bookshop for another quick visit, however the last two instances have taken place on the same day and around the same time. It’s always during Harry’s Thursday afternoon shift when virtually no one is there. It’s always slow during that time so usually Harry is the only person working.

 

The week-long wait is awful. Harry takes his journal with him every day that he has to work and also to every class that he has just in case his friend is feeling adventurous and wants to chance flipping through it when he isn’t looking. Nothing happens of course, but the anticipation that Harry feels makes him excited for when it will.

 

He gets to work early on Thursday, eyeing every person who walks into the shop with a lot more intensity that is probably necessary, but he can’t help hoping that each person who steps through the door is the one he’s been waiting for.

 

He starts to get antsy around two o’clock after three different boys with short brown hair have walked in, browsed through the store, bought books, and left without so much as a second glance in his direction.

 

It’s not like Harry expected the person who obviously enjoys anonymity to just come out and say, ‘It’s me! I’m the one who helped you!’ It’s already a long shot hoping that he’ll show up at all today, but Harry was really hoping that would be the case.

 

It’s getting late and the pile of books that needs to be shelved hasn’t gotten much smaller since Harry got here. He has to shelve them all at some point, but for the past half hour he’s only been putting away the ones that belong in the front of the store in case his boy decides to show up while his back is turned. He hasn’t, and Harry starts losing faith that he’ll show up at all, so he bites the bullet and gathers the armful of books, leaving the counter to go shelve them at the back of the shop.

 

He can’t wait around forever, after all.

 

~*~

 

Louis thanks God, heaven, and everything in between when Harry finally fucking leaves the front of the shop. Louis’ been sauntering around the outside of it for nearly an hour, peeking in through the window to find Harry still there with his journal laying out on the counter. The journal which Louis knows without a doubt has a message in it for him since he saw Harry writing it last week. Louis has been dying to know what it says. He hasn’t had the time to come back to the bookshop while Harry’s working due to their schedules conflicting, so he’s been counting down the days until now when he doesn’t have class to get a chance to pop in.

 

He hurries inside once Harry disappears with his armful of books. He practically runs to the front counter and flips open the cover of the journal, frowning when he doesn’t see the piece of paper there. He turns page after page until he finds the note wedged towards the back of the book with a little smiley face drawn on the front if it. Cute.

 

Louis wastes no time shoving the note into the pocket of his jeans before rushing out of the door as fast as his feet will carry him.

 

He waits at the window a few minutes more before walking away, standing there just long enough to see Harry return from the back of the shop and appreciate the wide, dimply grin he sports when he picks up his journal and finds that his note has been taken.

 

Louis notices himself smiling too when he remembers the note is in the pocket of his jeans. He digs it out and unfolds it with a strange mixture of excitement and nerves, reading as he begins his slow walk home.

 

‘ _Hello and thank you so much for all of your help! I wish I could somehow thank you in person, because you honestly saved me. I watched the films on your list and enjoyed every single one of them! You were right about romance and the screen, although, I still think there’s something to be said about love and literature. Maybe you could check out some of the titles on MY list and let me know what you think? Hope to hear from you soon. –Your grateful friend, Harry.”_

 

Louis reads the note with a grin playing at his lips, chuckling at the list of books Harry has given him to read. Louis doesn’t read for pleasure. He barely has time to read everything that he’s supposed to for his classes, but Harry’s little challenge suddenly has him wanting to give it a try. Maybe a novel or two won’t kill him. Probably.

 

 

*

 

Thursdays quickly become Louis’ favorite day of the week after that first successful exchange.

 

He’s super busy with life, classes, and his seemingly endless pile of assignments every day. He holds himself to a high standard when it comes to his course work even though it kills Louis to study as much as he unfortunately has to. He’s swamped, but even with all of his time spent on school, he always makes time for Harry and whichever of his favorites that he’s assigned for him to read too.

 

Louis becomes a big fan of the classic works that Harry suggests for him to read, grinning each time he comes across a memorable line that he’s sure Harry loves and probably has scribbled down in the pages of that journal of his. His roommate’s a romantic, he learns rather quickly. A huge one who finds beauty in writing and words in a way that Louis never understood until now. Louis finds that he’s now quite fond of that sort of thing too. Louis has to sneak the books from Harry’s list into bed with him each night when he turns his back to Harry in order to read in the pale light of his bedside lamp. He then sneaks the books back into his backpack the next morning, his mind absolutely racing with thoughts and questions about the plot that he fell asleep reading the night before.

 

He only writes notes to leave in Harry’s journal when he’s away from their room so that he doesn’t get caught. The notes between them which used to only be a few lines at most have gotten so long that they’re now technically letters. Letters in which Harry tells him how great his latest film suggestions were or how Gone with the Wind was the longest movie ever but he forced himself to stay awake until the very end and loved every second of it. Louis actually remembers the Friday night that Harry watched that one because Louis had been dead set on going out with his friends until he heard the familiar music of the film start up on his roommate’s laptop. He hadn’t expected for Harry to invite him to watch along with him, but Louis didn’t give it a second thought before sitting down beside him in his bed and texting Liam nevermind.

 

They’ve spent lots of afternoons and evenings next to one another that way. With Harry’s starry-eyed gaze locked on the screen of his laptop as Louis comments on the quality of the film production or directing as if English major Harry understands even half of what he’s talking about. Louis enjoys the time they spend together as roommates as much as he enjoys the conversations they have through writing. He finds out so much about Harry in the weeks that follow that he doesn’t even have to lie anymore when his mother calls to inquire about him. He tells her how cute Harry is as he’s laughing at funny parts of movies and how very green his eyes become after holding back tears during sad scenes. He goes on and on about how intelligent he is and how his perspective of the world interests Louis more than anything else. He tells his mother that Harry has become one of his favorite people, and every word out of his mouth is the truth.

 

It’s a bit chilly where Louis is standing outside of the bookshop, peeking in at his roommate ringing up a line full of customers. Louis paces, drumming his thumbs against the straps of his backpack where he’s clutching them. He’s been out here for about twenty minutes just staring at the journal that he can see lying in it’s usual place, but the shop is busy today so he’s yet to have a chance to sneak in and retrieve the note he saw Harry stuffing into his backpack this morning.

 

He has to wait another fifteen minutes for the line to die down before an old woman thankfully asks Harry for assistance in the back of the shop. Louis smiles when he sees Harry follow after her. Louis moves quickly once Harry and the woman leave, popping into the shop and out of it with practiced finesse and Harry’s new note clenched in his fist.

 

Louis keeps moving once he’s out on the street again, walking until he comes to the little coffee shop a few blocks down and then quickly ducking inside with excitement bubbling up in his chest.

 

He takes his regular seat near the window, something he started doing nearly a month ago when their messages started getting so long that he could no longer read them in front of the bookshop with out blocking people’s way. He used to be able to scan over Harry’s notes as soon as he got them, but he now prefers someplace quiet to settle down and fully appreciate them.

 

Louis takes the letter in both hands, his lips already pulling up into a grin at the little smiley face that Harry usually leaves on the front of his notes each week. Louis flips it over and blinks down at the folded up paper a bit taken aback after further inspection because today, the little cartoon is missing.

 

Louis swallows thickly, wondering if Harry simply forgot to add it or if the friendly little symbol’s absence is the result of something more sinister. He tries not to let it affect him too much as he unfolds the paper. He expects to see the page overflowing with Harry’s neat, compact handwriting as usual, but he’s mistaken again, because today there are only a few lines:

 

_‘Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind. –William Shakespeare._

_I read this in class a few days ago and couldn’t understand why it stuck out so much in my mind, that is, until I realized that it reminds me so much of you. We’ve never met face to face, so some would argue that I can’t really know you, however, I beg to differ because I know how you think and what’s in your heart and at times I feel as though I know your mind as well I know my own. I apologize, because unfortunately I have no suggestions for you today. I only have a question. Am I alone in the way I feel?_

_As always, I’ll be anxiously awaiting your reply. Hope to hear from you soon. - Love, Harry.’_

 

Louis’ hands hold a slight tremble as he reads over Harry’s letter so many times that the words are now seared into his mind. His heart is usually light and giddy after receiving a message from his roommate. He always smiles and giggles to himself like an idiot as the people sitting around him in this coffee shop give him odd looks because a piece of paper is making him laugh and blush. Today isn’t like those other days, though, because today, Louis is hardly breathing.

 

*

 

“Harry’s in love with fake me and I think I’ve fucked up.”

 

Louis has been holding those words in ever since he and Liam arrived at the dining hall. He didn’t mean to just blurt them out with no warning the way that he just did, but it’s all he’s been thinking about for the past four days. He couldn’t help it.

 

Liam blinks at him from across the table like he isn’t quite sure of what Louis just said. Louis would really rather not repeat it, so he sits silently, hoping Liam will write off his confession as a lapse in his sanity or something. He doesn’t. All he does is twist around to dig a pen and his planner out of his backpack like some weirdo.

 

“Liam. Did you not hear me? I said I fucked up.”

 

“Oh, I heard you,” Liam answers as he flips through his planner to find today’s date. “I’m marking this day in my calendar. I’m going to start keeping a tally.”

 

Louis watches on in annoyance as his best mate begins writing, ‘Louis fucked up today,’ all while glaring daggers at him for treating this like a joke. “I’m being serious right now!” Louis tells him.

 

“Well, so am I,” Liam says as he shuts his planner. He meets Louis’ eyes not looking at all impressed with him right now. “What do you mean Harry’s in love with _fake_ you? How many you’s are there exactly?” he asks sarcastically.

 

Louis guiltily blinks down at the food he no longer has an appetite for when he answers. “Two.”

 

Louis sighs, immediately dropping his head into the palms of his hands because he’s an idiot. Liam sits back in his chair with an expectant gaze. “Explain,” he says. Louis winces at the command, because they may be here a while.

 

It only takes ten minutes. Ten minutes for Louis to explain how a simple lie to his mother has grown into this huge mess that has become his life. How he’s tricked Harry into thinking he’s falling in love with him, how he’s led his roommate on every step of the way, and how this whole thing is about to come crashing down on his head. Liam doesn’t interrupt him. He just lets him confess and pour out his wretched soul.

 

Liam reaches for his planner again when Louis finishes.

 

“Li, enough with the fucking calendar tallies already!” he shouts, exasperated; desperate for some advice, a sign, _anything_ at this point that’ll fix this.

 

“I’m putting it away, Crazy. Calm down.” Louis watches as his friend does exactly what he said. When he’s done, Liam faces him again, still silent as ever.  

 

“So? What do you think?”

 

“I think you’re an idiot,” he mutters, causing Louis to draw back his foot to kick him beneath the table. His eyes must show it too, because Liam immediately holds up a hand to demand his patience. “I maintain that you’re an idiot, however I don’t really see the problem here. Well, I do see a problem here and that’s you doing dumb things as per usual, but I don’t see an actual _issue_ ,” he clarifies.

 

Louis understands nothing.

 

“The issue is that I tricked my roommate into falling in love and I’m not coming back from Christmas holiday because my mother will have buried my body by the time school starts again.”

 

“Louis, you haven’t tricked anybody into doing anything. Yes, you’re anonymously communicating with Harry and he has developed feelings through your letters, but the things that he feels are for _you_. That’s real.”

 

“But he doesn’t _know_ that it’s the real me. He thinks it’s somebody from his class who’s writing to him.”

“There’s no such thing as a fake Louis when both versions come from the same person,” Liam tells him with soft eyes. “You can’t _force_ someone into falling in love, Louis.”

 

Louis guesses that’s true. He’s known these facts all along, but he just assumed he was insane for thinking that Harry could maybe like him for him, even if he’s technically lying.

 

“Do you love him back?” Liam asks after a while.

 

“What? No,” Louis scoffs, but even as he says it, he knows in his heart that it isn’t true. “I-I don’t think I do, anyway. Do I?” he asks with wide eyes.

 

Liam doesn’t help him, choosing instead to shrug his shoulders and resume eating his lunch.

 

“Only you know the answer to that, mate.”

 

~*~

 

Harry hasn’t been much use for the past few days. Not since last Thursday when he opened his journal at work and found that his most recent note had mysteriously disappeared just like all the ones before it.

 

He’s always jittery during the weeklong wait that it takes to receive a reply. He’s usually bouncing with excitement, hardly even sleeping the closer it gets to the next Thursday because he knows what’s coming. Harry knows that his boy is going to slip into the bookshop unnoticed and either take Harry’s note or leave a new letter behind.

 

He always smiles when he gets a new one. He’ll laugh to himself as his eyes read the words that his friend wrote specifically for him. He finds himself blushing at times too, his cheeks heating up when he reads a line that makes him think that perhaps this anonymous person may like him more than just a simple pen pal. It certainly feels like it could be more now that their messages have grown and transformed into this private little bubble that they’ve created for just the two of them.

 

Harry has no clue if his friend feels even remotely the same way about him. He’s wondered for weeks if the giddy fluttering of his stomach is something that only he feels when he thinks about their correspondences.

 

Harry couldn’t just sit around wondering anymore, so last week he took matters into his own hands by flat out asking his mystery boy if there’s a chance that he may like Harry back. Usually he’s excited to get his friend’s happy reply, this week however, his stomach is in knots wondering if he’ll get a response at all.

 

He beats himself up about it. Worrying and stressing over whether or not he’s fucked up whatever he has going with this person by being impatient and ending it prematurely. This wonderful person that Harry has never even seen face-to-face but is somehow able to make his heart race.

 

He tries to keep himself busy so that he doesn’t go completely mental during the wait. School and work are usually pretty good distractions for him but the best distraction in Harry’s arsenal is his roommate, Louis.

 

Things between them had been kind of rocky at the beginning of the semester with the way people talk about Louis and how quick Harry was to believe them. Those people see only bits and pieces of someone’s life and use those fragments to back up their own stories; their own image of Louis made up of misunderstandings and assumptions; things of which they know nothing about.

 

Louis is kind and funny and sweet and nothing at all like the awful person that some people believe him to be. All it took was a few conversations and late nights spent watching films for Harry to realize that he’d terribly misjudged his roommate.

 

Louis has a bit of a reputation, but Harry knows that it’s all founded on people’s critical judgments of him. Like the rumor from last year about him and the football team; a rumor which Harry had to work out on his own only to find out that there was very little truth to it. A lot of Louis’ close friends are on the team. His best mate, Liam, is one of those people. Whenever Louis is seen out around campus with any of the team’s members, everyone automatically assumes that Louis is sleeping with them. He goes out, and different groups of his friends accompany him during these times, but of course, no one else sees it that way.

 

Harry can’t be sure, but he’s fairly certain that Louis is just a social butterfly. One who just so happens to also be very attractive. His activities around campus have made him out to be the unfortunate target and topic of rude gossip, all because he’s a bit of a flirt and enjoys going out which Harry thinks is incredibly unfair.

 

It’s Wednesday. A day on which Harry is always anxious because the day after is always the best. His classes seem to drag on forever, so by the time he gets back to his dorm room he’s on pins needles, buzzing with anticipation. He usually passes the time by doing work for class, or watching a new film from his never-ending list of things he must watch, but today he’s far too antsy for that. Especially with how nervous he is about his reply this time around.

 

Harry flops down on his bed, sighing because the waiting around is _killing_ him.

 

He needs something to take his mind off of it so he decides to grab his guitar from the corner beside his desk. He doesn’t play that often. He hardly ever has the time with everything else going on, but sometimes he finds a few quiet moments for himself to sit down and practice.

 

It’s Wednesday, so Harry should’ve known that Louis would be coming home around the same time as him. He’s usually already there when Harry arrives, so he really shouldn’t be as shocked as he is when after a few minutes of playing their door swings opens to reveal him.

 

Harry’s hands and fingers stop immediately, cutting off the sound of the guitar before Louis or anyone outside of the room can hear.

 

Louis smiles before narrowing his eyes in Harry’s direction.

 

“Wait a minute. Was that _you_?” his roommate asks, sounding delighted as he glances over the guitar now resting in his lap.

 

Harry briefly panics. He didn’t realize he was being that loud. “Um, yeah, I guess. I didn’t think anyone could hear me. Sorry.”

 

“Mate, why are you apologizing? That sounded amazing!” he beams. “I thought someone was listening to the radio or something,” he says before dropping his bag to the floor and coming over to sit at the foot of Harry’s bed with bright, expectant eyes. “Play something else,” he says, causing Harry’s face to flush.

 

He’s never really played for other people before. He has definitely never played with Louis in the room. “I wasn’t really playing anything. I was just messing around for practice.”

 

Harry’s excuse doesn’t deter him at all. “Well, mess around some more then,” Louis teases him with a kind smile. He’s always doing that. He’s always encouraging Harry whether it’s with his school work or he just needs someone to talk to after a long day. The least he could do is let him listen in as he fumbles through a song.

 

Harry resumes strumming his guitar, causing the corners of Louis’ eyes to crinkle up in delight as he listens.

 

Harry finds himself smiling after a while too. He notices that he does that a lot these days between Louis being so great and his nameless friend writing to him every other week. It’s times like these where Harry could one day see himself liking Louis as more than just a friend, but Harry’s heart is already pledged to another; to a certain someone who Harry hopes is going to give him the answer he’s looking for.

 

*

 

 

Work is completely nerve-wracking the next day. Harry can’t concentration on anything. Not even on his actual job which only requires him to ring up books and put them in bags.

 

He’s not alone in the shop today. That’s one reason he’s a complete mess. Inventory needs to be done because they’re getting more books shipped in this weekend. Niall has been asked to come in to help out along with their manager, both of whom have been circulating through the building all afternoon. Harry’s focus is shot as he watches customers walk in and out through the front door, because while his boy always comes in on Thursdays, Harry has also always been the only person working during that time. He hopes Niall and his manager don’t scare him off.

 

Niall notices that he’s acting weird right from the start. Harry can feel his gaze burning into the side of his face each time the front door opens and he whips his neck around to see who it is. Their shift started over two hours ago and Harry has made sure to leave the front counter several times in order to give his anonymous friend a few windows of opportunity. Unfortunately, he’s yet to seize any of them. His journal has been lying in the same spot with nothing new inside of it since he got here, and the waiting is really starting to get to him.

 

“What is it about that journal that you keep flipping through it like that?”

 

Harry blinks up at Niall’s question, forcing his hands down by his side. He hadn’t even realized he’d opened it again.

 

“Er- It’s nothing. It’s just a journal,” he assures him. Niall raises an eyebrow at him. Harry can’t really blame him for being suspicious since he nearly tackled Niall to the ground when he first noticed the book lying on the counter and tried to bloody shelve it. Harry has never moved as fast as did when he snatched his journal out of his co-worker’s hands.

 

Harry checks the time again. There’s only a little while left for his shift and the thought of leaving this shop empty-handed does something strange to his stomach. He’s in the middle of coming up with a brilliant plan to get everyone including himself away from the front of the shop when his manager answers his prayers by calling both of them to the storage room in the back.

 

Harry smiles, making sure his journal is visible and in place before immediately taking off. Niall watches him curiously and follows behind him, but he isn’t moving fast enough for Harry’s liking so he grabs onto his wrist and pulls him along. They return to the front counter a couple of minutes later since their manager only needed them for a short time. Harry prays it was long enough.

 

His eyes zero in on his journal and Harry grins to himself at how it’s slightly askew from the way he left it. There’s a woman talking to him, asking him to help her find something, but Harry is only half listening. Niall notices and offers to help her out instead, which is just fine with Harry. He needs Niall out of the way so he can retrieve his note anyway.

 

He flips through the book to find it as soon as Niall and the woman walk away together. He holds the note in his hands, telling himself to wait to read it until he’s done with his shift so he’ll have the proper amount of time to process it and then get over his disappointment if his friend tells him that he and Harry are exactly that; _friends_.

 

The letter has only been in his possession for about thirty seconds, and already Harry can’t take the suspense. He quickly unfolds it, a bit shocked when he sees that the page is mostly blank, but relieved when he sees one of his favorite love quotes written out just for him.

 

_‘Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. – Emily Bronte’_

~*~

Admitting the way he feels about Harry is like throwing the world’s heaviest stone away from Louis’ shoulders. It’s freeing and liberating to just be honest for once, or, as honest as he can be without actually telling Harry the truth.

 

Their letters were already the best part of Louis’ week and now Louis feels as though he can’t breathe until he gets the chance to read the things that Harry writes for him. He writes jokes; awful ones that make Louis squeeze his eyes shut like not being able to see the puns will make them less terrible, but there’s a smile on his Louis’ face regardless because he appreciates the fact that Harry tries for him. Harry tells him about his week and the things going on in his life, from school to work to how he’s been sleeping so much better now that he’s finally adjusted to his bed away from home.

 

Louis cherishes every sentence, every line that Harry chooses to share with him, but nothing touches his soul more than Harry explaining how he feels about him. Those lines, Louis values over all others. Those lines make Louis wonder how he ever looked at his roommate and thought for a single moment that he didn’t feel the same way.

Louis brushes his thumb over the last few sentences of Harry’s latest letter. It’s only Saturday, so it’s still very fresh in his mind, but Louis rereads the words again just to recreate the way his stomach flutters.

 

‘ _I want to tell you all of these things in person; how every day that isn’t Thursday takes a lifetime to get through or how in every dream that I have, you have a different name and face and yet somehow, I always know that it’s you. I’ll have to settle for telling you these things in the only way that I can for now, but just know that I’m ready and I’m waiting and I can’t wait to meet you. – Harry’_

Louis folds up the note and presses it to his chest.

 

Harry wants to meet him. He’s been asking the same question of ‘ _When?’_ for weeks. Louis would love to give him the answer that he wants, but the truth is that it terrifies him. Harry still has no idea that the boy from their letters and the boy who snores across the room from him every night are the same person. Louis wants to tell him. He wants to be completely honest, but he already knows what the truth will do, and Louis cannot fathom losing Harry now. Not when he’s just gotten him.

 

He gets a call from Jay a few days later that puts a big smile on his face, something that now happens any time he so much as mentions Harry, which just so happens to be _a lot_. His mother is as overjoyed as always by how happy he sounds, praising Harry for being such a bright light in her son’s life even though she’s yet to even meet him, however she does know what he looks like now.

 

His mother has gotten several pictures of him and Harry. The two of them snuggled together in bed as they watch the films that Louis secretly suggests or both of them stretched on the floor eating Chinese for dinner because they’re too lazy to walk to the dining hall. Harry smiles big for every selfie that they’ve taken and initiates three-fourths of them, assuming that they’re just going to be put on Instagram to show how great of friends they’ve become since the beginning of the year, and that’s true. Louis does want the world to see this amazing person that he gets to share a room with, but he also likes pretending that what they have together as roommates is much more.

 

For every photograph that Harry stages, locking his arm around his shoulders to pull him in or squishing their cheeks together to make Louis laugh only makes the urge to turn his head and kiss his roommate that much stronger. He fantasizes about it; About simply leaning in and coming clean, praying that Harry will be forgiving and understanding about this whole mess, but Louis doesn’t do it. He won’t chance ruining what they have, as fragile as it is, and besides that, he enjoys giving his mother a face to go with all the wonderful things she’s heard about Harry. He likes giving her at least that.

 

“I cannot wait to meet him, love. Your sisters are all excited to see you and meet him as well!” she gushes. Christmas break is less than three weeks away and his mother has been trying to squeeze details about his and Harry’s arrival out of him for the past month. Louis will be home as soon as classes end. He’s told her that Harry won’t be there until later on during the break. It’s an incredibly vague answer that hasn’t satisfied Jay’s questioning in the slightest.

 

“For how long?” she asks.

 

“Um, I don’t know yet, Mum. He hasn’t decided. It depends on what he’s got going on with his own family. We are pulling him away from his holiday after all,” Louis reminds her. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Harry may not show up at all. “I’m sure he’ll come for a couple of days,” he assures her.

 

“Oh, I know, I know,” Jay tuts at him, “I’m just being a bother because I’m impatient,” she jokes. “I know Harry is going to love spending time with us, Lou.”

 

Louis feels his chest tighten from his mother’s certainty. If only he were that confident. If only he could guarantee that Harry will actually come to his house over break and not hate his guts for lying to him for this long. He can’t promise any of those things, so Louis just nods along, silently hoping that he doesn’t fuck this up too badly.

 

~*~

 

Harry wakes up on Friday morning with heavy eyes when Louis’ alarm starts beeping from across the room. Thankfully his roommate shuts it off after a few seconds of his sleepy arm blindly feeling for his phone on the bedside table.

 

He lies in bed feeling exhausted as he pries his latest letter away from his cheek. The one he apparently fell asleep reading if the drool stain on the front of it is anything to go by. Harry flips onto his side so that he’s facing the wall and flattens the piece of paper out. He just received this letter yesterday, and already he has it memorized. That doesn’t stop him from reading it again though, his smile growing with each new paragraph and his heart about to leap out of his chest from the answer to his long awaited question of when they can finally meet.

 

‘ _Soon. Xx’_

 

All Harry has done for the past twenty-four hours is think about that word. That’s why he’s so tired this morning. He stayed up half the night reading his new letter and the rest of it was spent dreaming about it. He’s been waiting to meet this person for months, and now that he knows his chance is coming up, he’s finding it hard to focus on much else.

 

He’ll get to laugh at his boy’s jokes in person and see the color of his eyes. He’ll get to learn the different versions of his smiles and lean in and kiss every single one of them. He can hardly wait to just be able to touch him.

 

It’s quiet, Harry realizes after a few minutes have passed. Louis’ alarm went off about five minutes ago, which means that his roommate should be stumbling around the room right now in half-consciousness to get ready for his early morning film class. There’s no sound at all coming from that side of the room except Louis’ deep, even breaths, meaning that he has fallen asleep once again.

 

Harry crawls out of bed and pads over to Louis’ side, grinning when he sees Louis curled into a ball beneath the sheets.

 

“Louis,” he whispers as he takes a seat at the edge of the bed. He rubs circles into his arm before gently peeling the covers away from his roommate, causing him to laugh at how quickly Louis snatches the covers back over him.

 

“ _Louis,_ ” Harry giggles. “You’ve got to go to class,” he says as he restarts the process of slowly uncovering him. This time Louis allows it, frowning with his hair going in a million directions when he squints up at him.

 

“But it’s Friday. I don’t want to go,” he mumbles. It’s a very convincing pout. One that almost tugs on Harry’s heart strings enough to let him stay in bed like the five-year-old he’s currently pretending to be.

 

“It’s Friday which means you just have to make it through the rest of the day and then it’ll be the weekend and you get to sleep all you want,” Harry tries.

 

He thinks his little pep talk has worked when Louis grins at him but then he reaches for the sheets and yanks them over his body again.

 

“I’m not going.”

 

Harry fondly rolls his eyes at him.

 

“Yes, you are.”

 

Louis scoffs at that. “Good luck making me,” he says under his breath. He gasps when Harry quickly snatches the covers off of his bed completely along with the pillow he tries to seek comfort from and then gets up to open the curtains to let the early morning sunshine stream in through the window.

 

Louis sits up and glares at him, but he’s also fighting a smile so Harry knows he isn’t really mad. His hair is adorable.

 

“Oh look, you’re awake,” Harry smirks.

 

“Well played, Styles. My mother would be impressed. It took her years to master waking me up,” he says, running his hair through his fringe.

 

Harry beams at him from where he’s digging through their snacks. He grabs a granola bar and a bottle of water and places them on Louis’ lap. “Maybe that’s why people call me the world’s best roommate.”

 

“No, they don’t. That’s _my_ title,” Louis grins.

 

“I just brought you breakfast in bed,” Harry points out. Louis seems to think that over for a moment before agreeing.

 

“Alright, fine, I guess you can borrow my title for now,” he smirks. “Thanks, Harry.”

 

The look that Louis gives him makes his heartbeat speed up. That happens a lot lately and Harry can’t really figure out why. The only other time that Harry feels his stomach flutter the way it is right now is when he’s reading one of his letters. It’s a bit alarming to Harry to have his feelings so mixed up that he seems to be falling for two people at once.

 

“Yeah, don’t mention it, Lou,” Harry tells him, hoping his roommate doesn’t notice how pink his cheeks probably are.

 

*

 

Harry wipes the smirk off of his face when he notices Zayn’s suspicious gaze locked on him where he’s tucked up in his friend’s bed. He’s supposed to be studying for his exam coming up in a few days, but so far all Harry has done is write a reply letter to his boy as well as do a lot of internal squealing because he’s finally going to get the chance to meet him. He still has no idea when, but he knows it’ll be sooner rather than later.

 

“What are you doing over there?” Zayn asks.

 

Harry clears his throat and flips the page to his notebook in order to cover up the letter he was writing.

 

“Nothing,” he answers quickly.

 

“Yeah, nothing productive,” Zayn smirks.

 

He pushes his chair back from his desk and stretches, giving his back some relief from the hours he’s been hovering over the exam piece he’s working on. He comes over to the bed and Harry smiles up at him with wide, innocent eyes, tilting his notebook in Zayn’s direction so he can see all the wonderful notes he’s been so busy memorizing. His friend doesn’t fall for his trick, moving much too quickly for Harry to stop him when he notices the stray piece of paper sticking out from between his notebook. Zayn raises an amused eyebrow at the two full pages of Harry’s handwriting that he produces.

 

“Oh, yes. This letter to your boyfriend is the pinnacle of productivity! I can’t believe I ever doubted you,” Zayn laughs. He doesn’t read it, merely shaking his head as gives the pages back to his friend.

 

Harry blushes because he really should be taking studying more seriously, but how can he focus on anything when he’s this excited?

 

“Has he told you when yet?” Zayn asks, flopping down on his stomach at the foot of the bed.

 

“No, not yet, but he says soon.” Harry has to bite down on his bottom lip to stop from grinning like an idiot. He’s been walking around with a smile as bright as sunshine itself for weeks. People around campus keep trying to figure out why he’s so giddy all of a sudden. Everyone just assumes that some boy is to blame, and they’re absolutely correct in that assumption.

 

“Are you nervous?”

 

“Kind of,” Harry admits, “but, only because I’m so excited to finally know who he is.”

 

Zayn has been pretty supportive of this entire situation. He took some convincing in the beginning, but he quickly came around once he saw that the person writing to Harry truly has his best interests at heart. He doesn’t like the fact that this boy has kept Harry waiting for this long just to meet him in person, but Harry doesn’t hold that against him. He’s sure that his anonymous friend is just as nervous as he is.

 

“And you still think that it’s someone from your class?” Zayn asks, his face showing signs of doubt.

 

“Well, yeah, Z. It has to be. Who else would know about my assignments and so many little quirks about me and the things that I like? Unless, of course, it’s _you_ ,” Harry smirks.

 

Zayn rolls his eyes. “I’ve known you for years, mate. If I’d fallen in love with you, I think you and I both know that I’d choose a less tedious way of letting you know than writing you ten-page love letters. I love you and all, but unfortunately, you’re not my type.”

 

“Awww. Is it because I’m taller than you, Z?” Harry laughs because Zayn’s been not-so-secretly bitter about Harry’s growth spurts since they were little.

 

“It’s because you’re annoying as fuck,” Zayn quips back with a pinch to Harry’s leg. He gets up and heads back to his desk after that. He picks up his pencil and resumes sketching, but the smirk remains on his face. “You know, it could always be someone else. It could be your roommate. You two have gotten rather _cozy_ lately,” he jokes.

 

Harry grins along. Louis being his admirer is almost as preposterous as it being Zayn.

 

“Trust me. It’s not him.”

 

“Ah, so, you deny him being the admirer, but you don’t deny that you’ve gotten cozy with him. _Interesting_.”

 

Now it’s Harry’s turn to roll his eyes. He’ll admit that he and Louis have come a long way. He now considers Louis a close friend. He loves being around him and spending time together because it’s just so nice to be in his company, but he tells himself that it’s no more than that. It can’t be; not when his heart already belongs to someone else.

 

“It’s not Louis,” Harry says again. He aims a balled up piece of paper at Zayn’s head just to wipe the smirk off of his friend’s face. It should really bother Harry that Zayn isn’t any more convinced than he was five minutes ago.

 

~*~

 

Louis lets out a shaky breath when he sees Harry leave the front counter again from where he’s safely hidden outside. Louis feels his note burning a hole in the center of his palm where he’s been clenching it in his fist for the past half an hour.

Harry has left the front of the bookshop several times since Louis got here. There have been plenty of opportunities for Louis to sneak in and leave his final letter for his roommate, but fear keeps him rooted to the spot just outside the door. He’s never been this nervous.

 

The two of them have been playing this game of back and forth for so long that it’s scary to think that it’s ending. All Louis has left to give is the time and date scribbled down on this piece of paper along with the address to the park a couple of blocks away from Louis’ home in Doncaster. It’ll be their first meeting face to face where Harry knows exactly the type of person he’s been living with all this time ( _if_ Harry even decides to show up) and it’ll most likely be their last meeting too, because there’s no way this can end well regardless of what Liam says.

 

A man who was just busy browsing the shelves makes his way towards the door and steps out onto the sidewalk. Louis is never going to be truly ready for this moment, so he takes advantage of the open door and finally slips inside.

 

He zeroes in on the familiar journal lying on the counter and quickly makes his way over. He flips open the front cover to slip his letter inside, but freezes when he sees a small white envelope already there blocking his way. In all the time that he and Harry have been communicating this way, he’s never seen anything stuck between the pages of this journal besides things meant for him, so Louis grabs the unexpected offering and pockets it before leaving his note behind.

 

Louis’ feet carry him out of the shop as fast as possible once he hears someone rapidly walking towards the front. Louis keeps walking once he’s outside, refusing to look back as he ducks inside of the coffee shop and takes his regular seat.

 

His heart is pounding and he has no idea whether it’s from the adrenaline of nearly getting caught or from the anxiety of leaving everything from this moment on in Harry’s hands. His roommate will either come to Doncaster as Louis has requested, or he’ll decide that this entire thing is a waste of time and just not show up at all. Louis can’t decide which of the two options scares him the most.

 

Once he’s caught his breath, Louis remembers the envelope in his pocket and digs it out. It’s for him alright. Louis can tell because Harry’s signature smiley graces the front. It’s just a stupid doodle, but it’s so familiar that it makes Louis grin as he runs his thumb over the dried ink.

 

Louis pries open the flap and feels his grin stretch across the width of his face when he pulls out a Christmas card with two snowmen on the cover holding hands.

 

‘ _I know that it’s not technically my week, but it’s almost Christmas and I just couldn’t resist. The shop closes tomorrow so I figure this will be our last exchange for a while, but I just want you to know that I’ll be thinking of you anyway! I hope you have a lovely holiday. – Love, Harry Xx’_

 

Louis reads it over and over again until he’s smiling so big that he feels tears springing up to his eyes. And it’s such a stupid reaction to something as simple as a card, but Louis can’t help how it makes him feel. He puts it back inside the envelope and carefully slides in into his backpack for safe keeping. He won’t let himself cry about this probably being the last thing he’ll ever receive from Harry. He doesn’t think he deserves to since this whole mess is his fault to begin with. He’s honestly just lucky to have gotten to know him as well as he has.

 

When Louis gets home later that evening, Harry is already there. He’s at his desk cuddled into his favorite hoodie and wearing his thickest pair of socks, studying for his final exam tomorrow morning. He smiles big when Louis walks in.

 

“Hi, Lou. How was your day?” he asks, before furrowing his brow at whatever is in his book.

 

He’s so kind and thoughtful. He always makes sure Louis is feeling his very best and then does everything he can to fix it if he’s not. Harry always asks him how he is or how his day went and then he goes and does things like slipping Louis a holiday card with a soppy heart beside his name to wish him well over their break. Louis appreciates his roommate so much, but he’s started to realize that he more than just appreciates him. Louis is pretty sure that he loves him too.

 

Louis walks over to Harry’s side of the room and dips down behind him to wrap his arms around him. Harry jolts at the unexpected touch but then softly giggles as Louis squeezes him tight.

 

“What was that for?” he chuckles once Louis has let go of him. His eyes are brighter than ever, clearly as amused as he is confused by Louis’ sudden burst of affection.

 

“My day was great, and I just wanted to say thank you, Harry.”

 

Harry rolls his eyes at that, but his grin falters when he sees that Louis is completely serious.

 

“But, I haven’t done anything,” he frowns. “Thanks for what?”

 

Louis shrugs. He could thank Harry for a million and one things and that still wouldn’t cover it all. “For being so great. For being you. For being my friend,” he settles on, grinning when his words cause Harry’s cheeks to blush the faintest shade of pink.

 

“Oh,” he whispers. “Well, thank you, Louis. Or, you’re welcome, I guess?” he smiles. He holds Louis’ gaze for so long afterwards that the gravity of it pulls Louis’ eyes right to Harry’s lips. Louis forces himself to look away once he realizes where he’s staring.

 

“I um- I should study. I’ve got that exam in the morning,” Louis says.

 

Harry nods, suddenly looking just as flustered as Louis feels. “Yeah, okay. Um, me too.”

 

Louis offers him a grin before heading back to his side of the room where he hopefully won’t feel quite so overwhelmed.

 

When he takes his things out of his bag, he settles down at his desk with the distinct feeling of his roommate watching him. He waits until Harry is absorbed in his books again before pulling out his envelope and discreetly tucking it beneath the rubber band that holds all of the other things Harry’s ever given him. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t take them out with Harry in the room, but he allows himself a brief moment to flip through them tonight, because no matter how this ends, at least Louis will still have these.

He hides the pile of letters and his new Christmas card inside the drawer when he’s done reminiscing. His spirits lift when Harry’s voice reaches across the room to suggest that they take a break from studying and go get some dinner.

 

Louis’ stomach flutters just from the invite.

 

“Harry, you always know _exactly_ what to say, don’t you?” Louis says, as he grins over his shoulder at him. He’ll take dinner with his roommate over studying any day.

 

*

The weekend comes and goes much too quickly for Louis leaving his stomach in knots as the entire campus shuts down for the holidays. Everyone is finished with their projects and exams. Most people left last week as soon as they were done, but thankfully, Harry wasn’t one of them. He stayed through the weekend because his best friend Zayn had to, which was great news to Louis because he has enjoyed getting to spend extra time with him.

 

Louis is curled up in bed, secretly finishing up reading Wuthering Heights with his back turned to Harry as he packs for his trip home. Harry has been focused on his suitcase all morning, so Louis doesn’t expect it when he’s addressed by his roommate.

 

“Hey, Louis? Didn’t you say that you lived somewhere near Doncaster?”

 

Louis’ stomach plummets.

 

He closes his book and shoves it down below his sheets before sitting up. He expects for Harry to be staring at him with anger and accusation in his eyes, but his face is open and expectant instead as he waits for Louis’ answer.

 

“Um, yeah. I’m from Doncaster,” Louis says carefully, watching as Harry resumes folding the shirt in his hands.

 

“I thought so,” Harry says, depositing the shirt into his suitcase. “I know you told me that at the beginning of the year. Sorry.” Harry continues packing up and doesn’t say anything more about it.

 

Louis should leave it. He shouldn’t say another word, but he can’t help it. “Er- W-Why do you ask?”

 

“Hmm? Oh, no reason,” his roommate shrugs. “I, uh…I may have to travel that way over break to see someone and I couldn’t remember why the place sounded so familiar. It’s nothing,” he grins at Louis, throwing a final shirt into his suitcase. He throws his toiletry bag over into it as well and then walks over to his desk to dig something out of the drawer. Louis’ heart skips several beats when his roommate produces a thick stack of letters from it’s depths. Harry grins down at them with a deep fondness radiating from his expression. He runs his fingers over the top one, Louis notices; the one with the instructions from Louis about when and where to meet him.

 

Harry moves over to his suitcase and digs out a little nook before carefully placing the letters down inside of it. He closes his suitcase and zips it up without a single word. When he glances over at Louis, his easy expression melts off his face and turns alarmed in an instant.

 

“Lou? What’s wrong?”

 

Louis has to remind himself to breathe, knowing his face must be as white as the sheets he’s lying in from the thirty seconds of terror he just lived through thinking he’d been caught. He figured that Harry probably kept all of his letters just like Louis keeps all of his, but actually seeing them? Louis wasn’t ready.

 

“Nothing. I’m fine,” Louis rushes to say.

 

Harry watches him closely like he doesn’t quite believe that. “Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah. Positive. I’m great,” Louis nods. He even tacks on a smile to make sure Harry doesn’t suspect anything.

 

“Alright, then. If you’re sure,” he sighs. Harry’s grin returns after a few moments of sneaking worried glances at him. “You know, since I’ll be close to your hometown over break I could always come and visit you too. I’ll worry about you going so long without seeing the world’s greatest roommate,” he teases.

 

All Louis can do is nod at Harry’s idea, wondering if God enjoys making his life as difficult as it has become lately. “Yeah, maybe I’ll see you if you have the time,” Louis tells him. His stomach turns when Harry gives him a bright, promising smile as a response.

 

He is so fucked.

 

*

 

Louis hugs Liam goodbye that afternoon, squeezing his best friend a little tighter than usual. Liam doesn’t say anything. He tightens his hold around Louis’ shoulders and reassures him for the hundredth time that everything is going to work out the way it’s supposed to.

 

“What does that even mean?” Louis whines.

 

 _‘The way it’s supposed to.’-_ What if turns out that Harry doesn’t go to Doncaster at all? Then, he’ll have to explain to his mother that his fake boyfriend finally realized he was playing a dangerous game with a stranger, and she’ll be disappointed and probably hate him for the next twenty years. Is _that_ how it’s supposed to work out? Or, maybe Harry actually decides to show up. What if he drives all the way to Doncaster, takes one look at Louis before leaving, gets himself a new roommate, a new life, and never fucking speaks to him again. Are things supposed to happen like _that_? Because Louis is pretty sure that’s where this is all headed.

 

“He’ll show up, Louis. If he cares about you the way that he says, then he’ll be there. And then when he sees that it’s you, he’ll-”

 

“Punch me in the fucking face for being a pathological liar?” Louis mutters.

 

“ _No_ ,” Liam huffs. “Well… he might be a bit angry about the whole lying bit, but he’ll get over it and forgive you for that because he loves you, Louis. Everything is going to be fine.”

 

Louis can only hope that he’s right.

 

*

 

Jay welcomes him into the house a few hours later and hugs Louis like she hasn’t seen him in years rather than the few months that he’s been away. He and his mother talk on the phone all the time, but that’s obviously not enough for her because she’s crying by the time she lets him go.

 

“I’ve missed you so much,” she sniffs, causing Louis’ heart to melt. He smiles and hugs her again.

 

“I’ve missed you too, Mum,” he chuckles.

 

“Ugh, God! I’m sorry for blubbering all over you. I promise I won’t do this when Harry gets here. I’ll have myself together by then.” Louis’ throat goes dry at the mention of his roommate. His mother pats his back and pulls out of their hug with restored excitement. “He’ll be here the day after Christmas, right?” she checks.

 

Louis thinks long and hard before answering, because it’s one thing to lie over the phone, but it’s another thing to stand here and lie straight to her face. But, the thing is, Louis doesn’t want it to be a lie. He’d love for Harry, his lovely roommate, his wonderful boyfriend if he’ll have Louis, to come to his house and meet his family. He wants all of the things that Jay wants, he just can’t guarantee that Harry will too.

 

“He’s going to try his best to be here, Mum,” Louis smiles at her.

 

She doesn’t think his vague answer is strange as she pulls him into another quick hug. She thanks him before sending him up the stairs. “Your sisters and brother have been so excited to see you.”

 

Louis grins, because he’s missed them too. He turns to go find them, but his mother’s voice stops him before he gets too far.

 

“I honestly cannot wait to meet him, love.”

 

Her words shouldn’t make Louis’ stomach twist the way that they do, but he hides it well, grinning over his shoulder at her before disappearing up the stairs.

 

*

 

Louis wakes up the day after Christmas with a gut so full of nerves that he lies in bed an extra forty minutes just to settle them.

 

 _‘I’m going to throw up,’_ Louis sends to his best friend.

 

Liam answers him back right away. ‘ _No you’re not. You’re going to be fine_.’

 

Louis really, really doubts that.

 

 _‘What time is he supposed to be there, again?’_ Liam asks.

 

_‘I told him noon in the letter.’_

It feels like ages have passed by the time Liam unhelpfully replies with, _‘I guess you better get up then, because it’s almost time.’_

Louis grumbles into his pillow. He can’t believe the mess he’s gotten himself into. Liam was right. He _is_ a fucking idiot.

 

Louis slowly makes his way downstairs, taking his time getting into the shower and getting dressed to avoid seeing his mother for as long as humanly possible. Louis can hear her begin to flit around downstairs in the kitchen to prepare lunch a little while ago, asking the girls to please straighten up the house before their special guest arrives. Louis contemplates getting right back into bed and pretending this whole day isn’t happening upon hearing that.

 

Louis checks the time once he finally enters the kitchen and feels a new wave of nausea wash over him. It’s already eleven-thirty.

 

“Good morning, Louis! I should really say good afternoon, since you slept so late,” she says. She leaves the sink and dries her hands before coming over to press a kiss to his forehead. “Did you not sleep well, love?” she asks once she steps back to take in his appearance.

 

He knows he probably looks like shit. He tossed and turned all night and feels like he never really got any rest.

 

“I slept great, Mum. It just took me a while to drift off,” he explains.

 

“Ah, too excited about your boyfriend coming in today to sleep,” she laughs. “Your siblings and I have been kind of anxious for him to get here too, so don’t feel bad. We’re all so excited for lunch.”

 

“Yeah, Mum. I’m really excited too,” Louis says with a weak grin. He can hear his brother and his youngest sisters playing upstairs and the sound of his eldest sisters doing as Jay told them as they tidy up the house. Lunch looks delicious and is almost ready over on their big family table where his mother has gone through the trouble to set an extra place for Harry. Louis swallows thickly. God, he hopes it wasn’t all for nothing.

 

Everyone waves him goodbye with big, anticipatory smiles a few minutes later when Louis announces that he’s going to go meet Harry and get him. Louis’ fake smile doesn’t last long. He only makes it as far as the end of the driveway before panic starts to set in. Louis has probably walked to this park a hundred times, and yet each step he takes towards it makes Louis want to turn around and forget this entire thing.

 

The park is empty when Louis arrives right on time. He can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing when he takes a seat in one of the cold swings to wait.

 

There’s no sign of Harry and after a couple of minutes, Louis realizes exactly how dumb it was for him to show up here expecting any other outcome.

 

Louis did something stupid and lied to everyone he cares about. He dragged Harry into this mess without his permission. Louis got him involved and then got it into his head that Harry would be able to look past all of this, all of his flaws and just accept him for who he is once he found out that it’s been Louis the whole time, but that was before. That was when Louis thought Harry might show up.

 

He looks around the park again, still as deserted as ever and knows without a doubt that Harry’s not coming.

 

~*~

 

Harry frowns when his GPS redirects him after he makes another wrong turn. He thought it told him to turn right when it really wanted him to turn left, and then he turned down the wrong street altogether once it got him back on track. He comes to a stop sign once he’s going the right way again and closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.

 

He’s making careless mistakes, his mind so overwrought with nerves and excitement that he can’t even follow simple driving directions. He’s running late. Almost ten whole minutes past the time he was supposed to be at the address his boy gave him. Harry hopes he hasn’t fucked up too badly by making him wait. Harry hopes his boy is still there.

 

The voice from the GPS tells him that he has arrived at the destination, so Harry parks alongside the street. He looks through the grate of the park gate across from him and notices that the park is empty aside from a person sitting in one of the swings near the trees. Harry’s heart beats wildly in his chest as he stares at the person’s back from a distance. He can’t tell who it is. They haven’t even properly met, but Harry already feels drawn to them.

 

He checks his reflection in the mirror overhead and makes sure he looks presentable after his drive. He didn’t sleep much last night. He couldn’t, but he doesn’t think the lack of sleep makes him look tired. If anything, he thinks he just looks excited.

 

Harry grabs his neat stack of letters from the passenger’s seat along with the small Christmas gift he wrapped last night before stepping out onto the street.

 

The butterflies in his stomach are in a frenzy as he walks through the gate, bringing himself closer to the boy on the swings by increments. All Harry could see at first was that he had brown hair, but now more distinctive features jump out at him; features that are extremely familiar-looking once Harry starts cataloging them in his brain.

 

The boy’s hair is light brown, that much is obvious, but there’s something vaguely familiar about the shagginess of it as well as the way the boy’s shoulders are set as clings to the chains of the swing he’s sitting in. Harry recognizes the denim jacket the boy has on as well as the pair of old Toms, whose toes are currently dug into the sand and remaining snow on the ground from the last storm. The closer Harry gets only confirms what he already knows, and it’s not until he’s standing right behind the boy that Harry’s heart stops altogether.

 

“Louis?”

 

His roommate jumps at the sound of his voice, his eyes a dazzling blue when looks over his shoulder with tears quickly gathering in them. He turns to face the trees again when all Harry can do is stare back at him with his jaw hanging open. Harry doesn’t know what he’s supposed to think or say, so he sits down in the empty swing next to him. “It’s you,” he breathes, a statement that feels completely dumb to his own ears, but it’s all he can come up with. His heart breaks when Louis quickly wipes away the single the tear that rolls down his cheek as he continues staring at the trees ahead.

 

“Sorry to disappoint you,” he says with a sad grin. “Sorry to be so awful to you. Sorry to make you drive all this way. I should’ve just told you at school. It would’ve saved you the trouble of wasting your time.”

 

Harry is feeling a lot of things at the moment and he has no idea how to even begin to sort through them all, but confusion is what sticks out the most.

 

“Louis, why do you think I’m disappointed?” he asks, his question finally forcing Louis look him.

 

“How could you not be? I fucking took advantage of you. I lied to you. I’ve _been_ lying to you every single day we’ve lived together. I kept you in the dark about me being the one writing to you and then I made you drive all the way to fucking Doncaster during Christmas, no less. I’m a terrible roommate and I’m sorry.”

 

New tears roll down his cheeks and Louis quickly scrubs them away, leaving his cheeks red from the force of it. Harry’s chest is so incredibly tight, hearing his friend’s voice this hurt; Hearing Louis this hurt.

 

“Louis, I know you think that I’m mad. I get that you’ve been lying to me, and maybe I should be angry, but I’m not. I’m also not disappointed. Not even a little bit.” Harry came here to meet the man that he loves. The man who claims to love him back. He had no idea what to expect or who would be here waiting for him, but he’s so glad that it turned out to be Louis. Out of everyone, he’s glad that it’s Louis.

 

“Why not?” Louis scoffs. “You should hate me, Harry. What I did was selfish.”

 

“Well, why did you do it?” Harry asks, imploring Louis to just help him understand. He knows that whatever the reason for Louis doing this, it came from a good place.

 

Louis shakes his head to avoid his question and stares back at the trees.

 

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you because it’s so stupid,” he claims.

 

Harry takes a deep breath and places his letters and Louis’ gift on the ground before angling his body in his direction and extending his legs out towards him. Harry gently hooks their ankles together, intertwining them so that the two of them are sitting face to face and neither of them can look anywhere else besides at each other. Louis meets his gaze again with teary eyes as Harry offers him an encouraging smile. “Try me,” he says.

 

~*~

 

Louis has been expecting for Harry to leave ever since he got here. He thought he'd take off as soon as he saw Louis' face, but as of yet, he hasn’t gone anywhere. He's still here; sitting on a children's swing set with his big feet tangled up with Louis' smaller ones. He drove all this way and put his heart on line for him. The least Louis can do is offer him an explanation, so that's exactly what he does.

 

He starts from the very beginning. With his mother and how a simple phone call with her launched the first seemingly harmless lie that he told when he named Harry as his boyfriend. He explains how he ended up at the bookshop one afternoon when he was curious about Harry’s job and how he had only wanted to help when he realized Harry needed a push in the right direction with his assignment. Harry listens to it all without any judgment and it feels so good to just be able to tell the truth for once. The only time Harry says anything at all is when Louis gets to the part where their letters about random books and silly movies started to become more than just letters; how Louis realized too late that he had gotten in way over his head with the whole situation and the way that he felt.

 

Harry's voice is quiet but strong when he speaks up. "Did you mean it? The things that you said?" he asks.

 

Louis nods and tries to be just as strong when he answers. "I meant every word," he promises, and it's true. He really did mean it every time that he told Harry that he was important to him, that he was special and incredible. Louis had already fallen for Harry before he even realized what was happening.

 

"And now?” Harry asks in a near whisper from how quiet it is. “Do you still mean it?"

 

Louis doesn't know if Harry's feelings for him have changed at all since they've been sitting here, but Louis' heart has been pounding the entire time, and every quick beat has been for him.

 

"I love you, Haz. How could I not?" he answers.

 

His words feel like too much of a confession in the stillness of the park. Louis drops Harry's gaze when he doesn't get an immediate response. Louis can feel his chest tightening as he struggles to untangle their feet. He needs to go. He has to. It hurts too much and he's too embarrassed to stay here with Harry staring at him like that. Louis tries to pry his feet out of the knot that Harry made for them, but before Louis can properly free himself his roommate's large hand comes up to grip the chain of Louis' swing to stop him. The move is quick and startles Louis, but he calms when Harry's other hand comes up to gently hold his chin steady.

 

The first warm press of Harry's lips against his is like a shock to Louis entire body, and it’s just as wonderful as Louis knew it would be. All those times that they sat in bed together watching films or stayed up late talking, Louis would wonder what it'd be like to one day lean over and just kiss him. He can't believe Harry is giving him the opportunity to find out. After everything he’s done, he can’t believe that Harry’s allowing him this.

 

Harry slowly pulls back enough to break the kiss, but he's still leaned in so close that Louis’ only view is the green forest of his eyes when Harry speaks.

 

"I've been in love for months. I just didn't know it was with you."

 

The breath from Harry's words falls on his lips, warming Louis’ skin again where Harry is no longer kissing him. Louis was going to save Harry the trouble of having to let him down, but the way Harry’s holding him this close and so dear makes Louis feel as though maybe he doesn't have to.

 

"You don't hate me?"

 

Harry shakes his head with eyes full of what Louis can only describe as elation. "No. Of course not, Louis."

 

"You should,” Louis tells him. “You should be angry with me." His stomach flutters when Harry shakes his head again, lightly threading his fingers through Louis’ hair.

 

"I'm in love with you," Harry grins.

 

Louis sinks into the next kiss that Harry pulls him into. The intoxicating slide of his mouth drawing Louis in until his heart is thudding against his chest. It’s such an incredible sensation that Louis forgets that they’re in the middle of a frozen park, on an old swing set that Louis used to play on when he was little.

 

Harry eventually pulls back with a bright smile spanning the width of his face when Louis frowns from the loss of his lips.

 

"Why'd you stop?" Louis asks with a slight pout.

 

Harry laughs and presses a quick kiss to Louis cheek to pacify him. "Because, I believe we have somewhere else to be right now," he says with bright, anxious eyes.

 

Louis’ frown deepens as he tries to understand what the hell Harry's talking about. He rolls his eyes when he finally realizes what he means.

 

"Harry, you don't have to actually eat lunch at my mum's. She thinks you've been my boyfriend this whole time. It’s too complicated.”

 

"I _have_ been your boyfriend this whole time,” Harry grins. “I don’t see the problem.”

 

Louis feels his cheeks warming up with the smile he has to bite down on. "Haz, that's really nice of you to say, honestly, but I don't want you getting caught up in my lies. We don't have to do this. I’ll just tell her you couldn’t make it. She won’t mind."

 

"But they're not lies," Harry insists as he takes Louis’ hand in his. "We met at the beginning of school and we've been together all semester. I started calling you my boyfriend ages ago. You just didn't know it,” he laughs. “You can even ask Zayn if you don’t believe me,” he says when Louis still looks skeptical.

 

Louis narrows his eyes at Harry- well, his at his  _boyfriend_ , he guesses, and finds that the boy looks completely serious.

 

"Haz, are you sure you want to do this? My family can be a lot, and you're the only boy I've ever brought home to meet them so it’s going to be crazy. I'd understand if you want to do this another time," Louis tries, but Harry isn't having it.

 

"Of course I’m sure. I'm the guest of honor for a Tomlinson post-Christmas luncheon event. I'm going with or without you, mate," he smirks. Harry unhooks their ankles and retrieves his letters and the little gift box he brought with him before standing up. “Lead the way, love. We don’t want to be too late," he says, grinning when he sees Louis blush from the endearment.

 

He extends his free hand towards Louis with a hopeful gaze aimed right in his direction, smiling so hard that his dimples appear when Louis laces their fingers together.

 

“They’re going to ask you a billion questions,” Louis warns as they begin walking towards his house.

 

“Great. I love answering questions,” Harry assures him as he swings their arms between them.

 

“My youngest siblings can be a handful when they’re excited,” Louis tells him, and he’s being kind. His eldest sisters are likely to squeal out of disbelief when they see Harry for the first time.

 

“That’s fine. I love kids,” Harry shrugs.

 

Louis smirks, wondering if Harry really will be able to handle the Tomlinson clan. He’ll be impressed if he can manage it.

 

“I hope you know they’re going to be watching our every move. My family has never seen me with anyone before. I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’m pretty sure half of them don’t even think you exist,” he chuckles darkly. Louis has barely even gotten the words out when Harry stops them. He takes Louis by the waist and pulls him into a deep kiss that leaves Louis more than a little breathless when he pulls away much too soon.

 

“Then I can’t wait to kiss you just like that and prove them all wrong,” Harry whispers, leaving Louis there to gawk after him when he resumes walking. “You coming?” Harry calls back to him, smirking at the way his mouth is slightly hanging open.

 

Louis has to shake himself out of his daze to jog and catch up to Harry, his boyfriend, he keeps trying to remind himself. He slots their fingers back together once they’re side by side again, his stomach no longer crawling with fear when Harry gives his hand a light squeeze.

 

They’re going to be just fine.

 

~*~

 

Three Weeks Later

 

 

Harry looks up when he hears the door handle jiggling from where he’s sitting on the bed. Louis walks in a second later with a big smile on his face and his hair wind blown because he forgot to grab a hat this morning before he left for class.

 

“I thought you were going to be with Zayn all afternoon,” he says, looking completely thrilled that Harry is here instead.

 

“He was busy and I was only distracting him, so I came back here,” Harry explains, watching as Louis toes off his shoes and throws his backpack on his bed with the rest of his things that no longer inhabit the floor now that Louis’ bed pretty much serves as extra storage. He’s wearing one of Harry’s t-shirts, he notices, the collar of it dipping down past his collar bones, but he’s also wearing the necklace that Harry gave him for Christmas, the metal of it glinting in the light from the window so Harry refrains from calling his boyfriend out on stealing his clothes yet again.

 

Louis makes his way over to him with his mischievous gaze locked on the book in Harry’s hand. He crawls up on the bed and straddles Harry’s lap, skillfully prying the book out of his hand to sit it on the bedside table. Harry grins when Louis leans in slowly to press a quick kiss his jaw and then finally to his lips in greeting.

 

“Hi, baby,” he whispers. Harry sighs when Louis gently knots his fingers into his hair to deepen their kiss, making Harry’s stomach tremble from how nice it feels. Lots of things have changed since they got back from break, but one of the best things are their ‘hellos’. ‘Hellos’ are always amazing.

 

“Hey,” he manages to get out, once Louis pulls back to let him breathe.

 

“Were you reading for class just now or for pleasure?” Louis asks, looking guiltily at the book he took away without permission.

 

“I enjoy all books, so that means they’re all pleasurable,” Harry teases, knowing that because of him, Louis now has a fond appreciation for literature as well. “Does it really matter why I was reading?”

 

“Yes, because if it was for class, then I’ll get up and let you study, but if it was just a book, then I’m not going anywhere,” he smirks, gasping when Harry pinches him on the bum.

 

Harry admits that his book wasn’t for class, laughing when Louis celebrates the good news by smacking a loud kiss to his cheek. He scoots further up Harry’s lap to kiss him again and Harry lets his fingers trail along his hips and the hem of  _his_ shirt.

 

“Nice outfit by the way,” Harry grins.

 

“Yeah? I think it’s very nice indeed. I have great taste,” Louis smirks.

 

“I think you mean _I_ have great taste, thief,” Harry says, tugging at the bottom of the shirt he’ll probably never get back.

 

“Oh, alright,” Louis concedes. “I stole it, but I only did it because I wanted to wear my necklace and nothing of mine goes with it.”

 

Harry fondly rolls his eyes at his excuse. It’s a silver pendant with a matching chain. It literally goes with everything, but Harry doesn’t point that out.

 

“Well, if your thievery was in the name of fashion I guess I can overlook it,” Harry laughs, reaching out to trail his finger down the chain of it.

 

He bought this necklace the same day that Louis wrote Harry to meet him in Doncaster. He didn’t know exactly who he was buying it for at the time, but that didn’t make the words he had engraved on back of it any less meaningful or true when Louis opened it front of his family. Louis’ cheeks pinken when Harry flips the pendant over and rereads them, letting his thumb trail over the surface of it.

 

“I get so many compliments anytime I wear it,” Louis tells him with a proud glint in his eyes. “It kind of makes me want to never take it off.”

 

Harry smiles at the image of Louis wearing the physical representation of his feelings for him every day. It makes Harry wonder if one day Louis would like to have another piece of jewelry; one that means they’ll have each other forever. Harry can only hope.

 

“It’s looks great on you, love. So does the shirt that you stole out of my wardrobe,” Harry smirks, laughing when Louis pokes him in the chest. He apologizes immediately though, leaning in to connect their mouths, the pendant of his necklace cool where it rests between them against Harry’s skin.

 

‘ _To love and be loved, that’s everything. - Unknown’_

 

 

 

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to FallingLikeThis (Zayniam) for such a wonderful request and just for being lovely in general. I had so much fun writing it! 
> 
> Thank you to Togetherwecouldbealright and Tomorrows for all the help, and also, thank you to anyone else who reads this <3


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